


Ut Cupio

by namelessellie



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Graphic Sex, Hogwarts Inter-House Rivalries, Hogwarts Prefects' Bathroom, Hogwarts Sixth Year, Light Angst, Mature Harry Potter, Multiple Orgasms, Oral Sex, POV Hermione Granger, Romance, Secret Relationship, Sex, Smut, Wall Sex, War
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-26
Updated: 2019-03-07
Packaged: 2019-06-16 12:47:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 24,119
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15437373
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/namelessellie/pseuds/namelessellie
Summary: Draco catches a flustered Hermione off-guard in the Prefect's bathroom





	1. Prefect's Bathroom

“ _Ut cupio_.”

The Prefect’s bathroom door swung open to Hermione Granger’s whispered request and she stepped through into the vast room.

Hermione smiled in content and practically skipped over to the bathtub, excited for a long, hot soak. With a few flicks of her wand, she started the water and activated an array of scented foam and bubbles, as well as the tub’s jets. After a tiresome night of avoiding Cormac McLaggen at Slughorn’s Christmas party, Hermione was looking forward to a relaxing bath. She set her bathrobe and towel on a bench before unzipping her dress, letting it pool around her ankles before she kicked it away carelessly. She had taken off her ridiculous heels the moment she got back to her dormitory, so instead moved on to removing her hairpins from her sleek and tidy curls.

By the time she was completely unclothed, the bathtub was nearly full. The sound of water was loud in Hermione’s ears as it shot out from dozens of spouts. Satisfied when the foam and bubbled reached far above the water level, Hermione turned off the tap and stepped in, sighing at the scalding temperature. It burned her skin slightly at first, but as she sunk down slowly, her eyes rolled back in delight. She tread water for a few minutes, pushing foam and bubbles out of her way as she went.

Hermione dunked her head underwater and spent some time shampooing and conditioning her curls, relaxing further at the feel of her nails scraping her scalp. She swam to the ledge, resting her back against one of the jets she had left on. The hard water pressure relieved the muscles in her lower back and Hermione moaned, embarrassed at how sensual she sounded. Her cheeks reddened but she shrugged, remembering she was her by herself.

 _And how often do you get some alone time, hmm?_ Hermione considered the soft voice nudging at her conscience. She took a deep breath and hesitated before bringing a hand down to rest on her belly, just under her navel. She stroked her fingers lightly across her wet skin, enjoying the soothing feeling. She moved her hand up, adding the other to the slow trail, and cupped her breasts gently. The top of her globes could be seen just above the water, dripping wet and coated in a layer of bubbles. Hermione stroked a thumb across her nipples, stimulating them into hard nubs. When she pinched with her forefinger and thumb, a breathy gasp escaped her lips. She continued those attentions until her breathing picked up and her insides were warming with need.

Hermione slid a hand back down her stomach, leaving the other behind to continue its assault on her nipples while the other gave attentions elsewhere. She ran an eager finger down her slit, her head falling back with a groan. She knew she was wet and ready, although the water washing away her natural lubrication did not give her any indication. Her shuddered breaths and throbbing clit were answer enough. Hermione was not sure why she was so aroused by her own touch. Perhaps it was the relaxing room which she had all to herself for the night. Or maybe it was because of Cormac McLaggen’s attentions to her earlier, however unwanted they were. It was not as if the boys at this school gave her a second look, or at least that’s what Hermione thought. The only boy other than Cormac had been Viktor Krum. _Sweet_ _Viktor_ , Hermione thought of him fondly, thinking of the study sessions they used to have in the library during his time at Hogwarts in her fourth year. She thought of the kisses they shared and of his offer to visit him in Bulgaria. Hermione had finally taken him up on it before sixth-year term began. She went on friendly terms, but that changed quickly after spending a week with Viktor. Hermione moaned, her finger pumping in and out of her quickly, recalling the night Viktor had gently taken her for the first time. She moaned, fingering herself harder as she thought of the nights after that he had taken her, albeit not as gently. Viktor had opened Hermione to a world of pleasure that she was fond of, although Hermione preferred her own hand rather than taking any of the _boys_ at Hogwarts into her bed.

Hermione even cringed at the thought, slightly turned off for a moment. She decided to focus on her own pleasure instead, and closed her eyes, blocking out all thought. Her finger came up to rub her clit in slow circles and then switched to a faster pace after a minute of torturing herself. Hermione was gasping, clutching at her breast and reveling in the pleasure she was bringing herself.

But it was not enough. Hermione knew she was merely feeling empty, but as she was all alone and without a lover, that was not a possibility. After considering quickly an idea, she turned around, so she was sitting up on her knees on the single step lining the length of the tub. She lowered herself slowly until the water from the jet was brushing her clit with just the right amount of pressure. Hermione moaned and gasped at the feeling, one hand paying attention to her nipples while the other gripped the edge of the tub. To an outsider, she figured she would look perfectly crazy and desperate – and perhaps she was but Hermione did not care. She writhed and moaned at the feelings, growing closer to release every second. Hermione reached a hand down to slip a finger or two inside to bring her closer to orgasm but was startled away from the task when the door to the bathroom slammed open. With a surprised gasp, Hermione fell back into the water to shield her body from the intruder.

“Malfoy!” cried Hermione when the Slytherin strutted into the room blazing mad and extremely muddy.

“Granger,” he practically growled, kicking the door closed. “Get the fuck out now.”

“What?” Hermione spluttered, gaping at her insane classmate. “You leave! I was here first.”

“I’m not in the mood for this, Granger!”

“What, still angry you got kicked out of Slughorn’s party?” Hermione mocked.

“You call that lame get-together a party? No, I’m not angry you foolish little _Mudblood_.”

Draco spat the word with such vehemence that Hermione winced but otherwise ignored him.

“Then why do you seem so put out?” Hermione fired back.

“Why do you care?” Draco sneered in return.

“Because I want you to leave!” Hermione knew her response did not make sense, but the situation had flustered her so and she was not going to leave before he did.

“Did I…interrupt something?” Draco smirked knowingly, noticing that her chest was heaving with faltered, heavy breaths and her cheeks were flushed.

A strange pressure constricted Hermione’s throat and she struggled to pull in her next breath.

_Did he know?_

And why did that idea excite her so? Hermione’s nerves were kicking in, and she was ashamed of herself for thinking such things. The point was that Hermione had been so close to orgasm that Draco’s entrance did nothing to quell the intense feelings she was having. Her nipples were so tight that they were somewhat painful from her earlier, rough attentions to them, and her clit was throbbing so frequently from being abandoned that Hermione wondered if she might come anyway. She was still aroused, and Draco’s appearance in the room was not helping. In fact, Hermione could not help but stare at him. He was filthy from something; mud was plastered to his hair, a stark contrast from the pale blonde locks, and his face was smudged as well. He was wearing a long-sleeved, black jumper and pants, both stained with mud, and his feet were bare.

Hermione swallowed a gulp _. Did his gray eyes seem brighter next to the muddy smudges on his face or was it just the lighting?_ She eyed the tight material on his shirt that was hugging his muscular chest with curiosity. _Did he always have such a fit figure?_

 _Perhaps I only think he’s handsome when he isn’t talking,_ Hermione thought before remembering that he had asked her a very embarrassing question five seconds ago too many.

“No!” she choked out quickly. “Just a relaxing bath, so if you will kindly leave. . . .”

“Kind isn’t in my vocabulary, Granger, and we both know it. If you won’t get out, I’m coming in,” said Draco, tossing his towel next to hers on the bench.

“Like hell you are!” Hermione screeched, splashing him with water. “Get out Malfoy or I’ll…give you a month’s detention!”

Draco rolled his eyes and pulled off his shirt. “You can’t give me a detention you moron, I’m a Prefect as well.”

“Why are you doing this? You hate me! Just get out and you can come in after I’ve finished and left,” said Hermione, sinking lower into the water until it was up to her neck.

“I’m not sure I hate you so much, Granger, not when my opinion just changed of you. Not such a prude, eh?” Draco’s eyes swept shamelessly over her figure. “Definitely not when all the bubbles are practically gone, and I can see your delicious breasts under water.”

Hermione squealed, crossed her arms and turned around in embarrassment, only to give Draco a perfect glimpse of her arse.

 _Definitely glad I decided to use the prefect’s bathroom tonight,_ Draco thought.

“Hand me my towel, please,” Hermione begged.

“No,” came Draco’s reply from behind her, clearly said with a smirk. _What happened to that anger he came barging in her with?_

 _Must’ve disappeared when he realized you were frigging yourself in here_ , Hermione berated herself. _Oh, the ways he’ll use this against me,_ she thought.

“Then hand me my wand so I can at least summon it!” she pleaded.

“No, I don’t think so. Not until you admit what you were doing before I walked in.”

_And there it is. . . ._

Hermione heard a splash behind her and she whirled around. Draco had dropped his pants and climbed into the tub.

“Malfoy, get out! This is _my_ bath and you’re filthy!” she scolded, splashing him with water again.

“I went flying to blow off some steam. Do you know how muddy the Quidditch pitch gets during winter? Not to mention I’m frozen. I need a bath,” he shrugged as if it was the most normal thing in the world to be in a tub with her, a Gryffindor _and_ a Mudblood.

“Well, most normal people wait for their turn instead of getting into the tub with their enemy!”

“I know I’m beating you in potions at the moment, but I wouldn’t go as far as to say enemy,” said Draco pompously.

Hermione took a few angry steps over to him, thankful for the deep tub although she knew the tops of her breasts were visible. Right now, however, she was about to prove a point. Hermione grabbed his left arm and pulled it forcefully from the water. And there it was: The Dark Mark. It was big and black and tainted Draco’s pale flesh, but as she glanced up at him, Hermione realized he was wearing it more like a scar. His eyes seemed to stare down at the mark just as disdainfully as hers were in the second before he yanked his arm out of her grasp. But mostly, he looked surprised at himself that he would be dumb enough to strip naked and forget that he was baring his Mark to a Gryffindor.

“How dare you,” he growled.

“I’m sorry,” said Hermione, not sure why she was apologizing. She did know that she wasn’t sure why standing this close to Draco was affecting her so. Her breathing had picked up again, and her eyes were flicking back and forth between his strong shoulders and his tattooed arm. She glanced up at him again, surprised to find him looking hungrily at her breasts instead of staring at her in contempt like she thought he would be. That look ignited the feeling that Hermione had felt with Viktor the first night she had been with him. She recognized that look of desire, and suddenly Hermione was aroused again – not that she had stopped being so, but Draco had extinguished that feeling when he attracted her temper to the surface.

“I had hoped it wasn’t true,” continued Hermione, not really sure of what to say.

“And now that you know the truth, what do you feel?” sneered Draco, but Hermione caught a tone of sincerity in his voice. She wasn’t sure why she took a step closer to him, but she did. It was as if her inhibitions had completely taken control of her body, leading her towards the naked boy in front of her.

_Maybe that’s why you’re acting so foolish. You’re both naked and in a tub together._

Merlin knew there was always tension between the two; however, Hermione had never considered it to be sexual.

“Why do you care?” asked Hermione, using Draco’s own words from earlier against him. Draco took a step closer this time, practically closing the distance between the unlikely couple. Hermione nipples rubbed against his chest with every heavy breath she was taking. The only sound in the bathroom was the water rippling from the jets and their breathing. They were simply staring at one another without speaking, and Hermione wanted to look away but was frozen. His eyes were swimming with so many emotions that she was struggling to not drown in them: fear, hate, skepticism. She was sure she was looking at him the same way, but those emotions were completely disregarded by the one that was about to dominate their actions: _desire_.

Hermione was the one that leaned in first. Draco watched as her breasts came more into view as she reached up on the tips of her toes to meet his lips halfway. He did not waste another second, gripping her hips tightly and pulling her body flush against his before he kissed her. It was not a gentle kiss either, but one fueled by arousal and passion. Hermione’s hand immediately went to the back of his neck, pulling at his hair to bring him closer.

Hermione hardly registered that she was snogging Draco Malfoy furiously in the prefect’s bathroom. Her mind was instead drawn his arousal that was pressed against her navel, hard and big. Draco Malfoy was very well-endowed indeed, and it actually bothered Hermione for a mere second.

_No wonder he’s such an arrogant prat._

When Draco gripped her bum tightly and lifted her to rest on his hips, Hermione gasped in delight, finally feeling some friction from the new position. Draco took the opportunity to slide his tongue between her parted lips and they began a delicious dance for dominance. Draco won, much to Hermione’s delight, as she reveled in the bruising hold he had on her hips and the rough stroke of his tongue against hers. Every few seconds, Draco would pull her bottom lip between his teeth simply to remind her who was in control. Hermione did not mind at all and found the action to arouse her even further. The water was washing away all evidence away, but Hermione knew she was soaking wet after every minute in Draco’s arms left her more desperate for a release.

Noises finally began spilling from Hermione’s lips when Draco moved his attentions down her neck, nipping and sucking wherever he found her to be slightly more sensitive. His lips found their way to her chest and he teased her by licking and sucking anywhere but at her nipples.

“Malfoy, please!” Hermione moaned, playing right where Draco wanted her. He wanted to hear her beg. Hermione tugged at his mud-caked locks desperately, but Draco ignored her pleads, kneading her perfect bum in his happy hands and leaving a trail of kisses between her breasts. Hermione was writhing at this point, grinding her arousal against his in a desperate attempt to get off. Draco was not complaining and helped her along with the task by guiding her with his hands on her behind. Finally, too eager to wait any longer, Draco ran his tongue across Hermione’s nipple before he sucked it between his teeth. Hermione’s head dropped back in a breathy moan that echoed through the bathroom. Draco grew impossibly harder.

_Sweet Salazar, I think this witch will be my death. . . ._

Draco continued his attentions to her beautiful breasts, switching back and forth so one wouldn’t be neglected too long. Hermione had begun her discovery of his body, her fingers running tentatively across his shoulders, down his chest and to the taut muscles of his stomach. He was long and lanky, but with small definitions of muscles in all the right places, no doubt from years of Quidditch. Her only regret was that she could not reach to stroke her curious fingers across his hardened arousal, as he was holding her too tightly against him.

Draco suddenly smacked her wandering hands away, snaking his own down between them until Hermione felt one of his long fingers run through her folds and dance across her clit.

“Merlin,” Hermione gasped, her hips bucking to meet Draco’s delicate attentions. His finger drew small circles against the small bundle of nerves that brought her the most pleasure. He teased her to the brink of completion with larger strokes, quick flicks, and light pinches, all while watching her intently, drunk on the reactions he was coaxing out of her. Meanwhile, Hermione was reveling in the pleasure Draco was giving her, riding his hand shamelessly when he shoved two fingers up her cunt, fingering her roughly.

“Malfoy please,” gasped Hermione, her fingers desperately gripping his shoulders.

“Tell me what you want, Granger,” said Draco, his eyes searching hers. His thumb flicked faster across her clit, leaving her to grind into his hand in utter desperation for release. Draco knew she was close again and promptly pulled his fingers out of her, leaving her clit throbbing in their absence. Hermione looked at him in contempt, digging her nails into his shoulders to further her point across that she was frustrated. However, her desire to finish, and for _Draco_ to be the one to bring her to completion, surpassed all other emotions and she leaned her forehead against his weakly.

“I want you inside me,” she said in nothing more than a whisper.

Draco took a deep breath, trying not to come right then and there. He was unbelievably turned on by the Gryffindor that he was _supposed_ to loathe. He took a few steps back, the back of his knees hitting the steps of the bath. He sat down, bringing Hermione with him; her knees scraped against the concrete steps, but she hardly noticed. She straddled him comfortably, smirking in triumph that she was finally in control. Draco looked on in amazement, clearly having expected her to ask to be on the bottom.

His eyes widened further when Hermione’s hand reached underwater to grasp his hard member in her hand and began to pump it quickly and firmly. She gave him a few strokes, flicking the tip with her thumb during each upward movement. Hermione could not take her eyes off of Draco’s mouth. The aristocratic upturn of his lips, so often turned up in disgust when he sneered and offended her, was no longer such a despiteful sight. Quite the opposite in fact, as Hermine found his face, scrunched up in the pleasure she was delivering him, to be quite the turn on.

 _He is handsome,_ she begrudgingly admitted to herself.

Without another thought, Hermione lifted herself higher on her knees and sank down onto his length. Draco released a deep moan and his hands quickly came to rest on her waist. Hermione lowered herself slowly, adjusting to Draco’s wide girth.

“Fuck,” Draco groaned loudly. Hermione lifted her eyes from the water where she was watching them connect to meet his eyes. Without hesitation, Hermione leaned in to kiss Draco, her tongue immediately running across his lower lip to ask for entry.

Draco quite willingly allowed the lioness on his lap to take over. Her perfect lips and tongue were driving him to the edge quickly as she grinded on his cock, lifting herself up halfway only to roll her hips back down until he was completely sheathed within her. She set a torturously slow pace, and Draco knew she was doing it on purpose when she squeezed her cunt around him, her kiss-swollen lips curving into an arrogant smile against his.

She kept that up, the minx, relaxing her muscles as she lowered herself onto him and tensing her muscles tightened as she rose up on her knees. Draco shuddered under her every time.

“If you think I won’t come just from that, you’re wrong,” Draco growled, his fingertips gripping her waist tight enough to bruise.

“That’s a little fast, no?” teased Hermione. “We’re not even five minutes in.”

Clearly, that was the wrong thing to say, as Draco gripped her waist so hard Hermione gasped and slowed her movements to a complete stop.

“And if you think I won’t make you come again before those five minutes are up, you’re in for a surprise.”

Hermione felt gooseflesh pebble across her skin at Draco’s promise, his words sending her reeling with pleasure. His grip did not falter, and their fucking began again, this time with Draco in complete control. His hands holding her slightly raised on her knees and still, Draco began pounding into Hermione relentlessly, done caring if he left bruises on her soft skin. Hermione did not seem to care either, as her mouth dropped open in a silent scream and she gripped his shoulders for dear life.

Hermione had never felt anything like it. Draco was hitting a spot in her that no one had found before, not even her own fingers. Her head dropped weakly to his shoulder as she moaned like a whore near Draco’s ear. The sounds spurred Draco on further, and he changed the angle of his hips slightly to drive her to the edge. Sure enough, a few strokes later, Hermione was warning him of her impending release, one of her hands now tugging painfully and deliciously at his hair.

“Malfoy, I’m gonna – “

“No,” Draco growled, pumping harder and faster until he could see his own release approaching soon. “You’re going to hold it until I say so, and when you come I want you screaming my name.”

Hermione nodded her consent into the groove of his shoulder and neck, wondering briefly if anyone could hear them in the corridors. For some reason, she became even more turned on and the thought of someone pressing their ear to the bathroom door, wishing they were getting fucked as well as her.

Draco brought a talented hand down to her clit, rubbing it back and forth quickly. Hermione groaned at the sensitive attentions. He built her up with circular motions until her breathing became erratic and Draco pulled away, knowing she was close. She had reduced to begging for a release now, and Draco smirked triumphantly.

_Know-It-All Granger, submissively begging me to allow her to come. . . ._

He was bringing her hips down to meet him halfway, and Draco didn’t think he could hold on much longer.

“You can come, Granger. Fucking scream for me.”

Hermione did not waste much time. Draco had teased her into an intense build-up, and when he used her first name in such a dirty way, she was only a couple thrusts away from orgasm when she tried to muffle her screams in his neck.

“Fuck, Draco!”

Hermione was shaking on top of him, completely in orgasmic bliss. Her teeth bit into his neck to muffle her loud, delightful screams of pleasure, and that was what drove Draco to the finish line. He stilled inside of her, cumming with a loud groan of her name. Hermione, coming down from her release, milked their orgasms slowly with a sexy grind of her hips.

Draco watched on through hooded eyes, resting a hand on her bum that was moving gloriously from his view. Her lips continued peppering kisses on his neck even after he pulled out of her, and he was sure she was doing so instead of meeting his eyes. It felt nice, though, so he let her continue, his hands stroking along her wet skin.

“Granger?” Draco said eventually, feeling Hermione tense above him, refusing to meet his eyes. He rolled his eyes at how shy she was being all of a sudden and pushed her off his lap. Hermione plopped down into the warm water and turned away from him, swimming to the middle of the bath. Draco followed after admiring the gentle curve of her figure, coming to stand behind her. She was tense; did she regret what had occurred between them?

Suddenly, Draco did not feel so confident either.

However, he had enjoyed their coupling too much to just let her shy away from him. He lifted a tentative hand, brushing her wet hair over one shoulder and dropping his lips to the exposed freckled skin on her neck. His fingers brushed gently over the bruises he left and ran his hands up and down her sides.

“Granger?” Draco tried again. This time turned to look at him, and he noticed quite uncomfortably that her eyes were brimmed with unshed tears. He stroked his thumbs in circles on her hip bone, drawing her closer to him until their bodies were pressed flush against each other.

Draco watched as Hermione averted her eyes again, taking his left forearm in a gentle grip. She stroked her own thumb against it as if apologizing for earlier. . .as if trying to tell him that the mark tainting his skin did not make her regret what they did here tonight. Hermione sighed and lifted her eyes to meet his, brown searching gray.

“Wash your hair, Malfoy. It’s still caked in mud,” she said in a playful tone, although Draco thought it sounded quite fake. Hermione rose onto her toes to press a lingering kiss on Draco’s lips. “I should go.”

Draco stood in the middle of the bath dumbly as she stepped out of his grip and lifted herself out of the water. She dried off with a white towel quickly, Draco watching her all the while before she slipped into her bathrobe. Draco thought it hid way too much of her beautiful skin; he much preferred her naked. With one last glance at him, Hermione gathered her clothes and walked to the door, only turning around when Draco called after her,

“Do you regret what happened between us?”

Hermione thought he almost sounded shy or worried and she smiled.

“No, Malfoy, I don’t.”

The two House rivals shared a fleeting look before Hermione disappeared from the Prefect’s bathroom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am completely overwhelmed by the hits and kudos I received on my first one-shot, Library Indulgence. It definitely gave the confidence to write on and get to posting. If you haven't yet, check it out for a quick read! I've got some more stuff in the works, including a continuation of this fic. There's some longer stuff getting some writing time right now as well, and no, not all of them are Dramione!
> 
> In case you were wondering: Ut Cupio means "To Desire" in Latin.
> 
> Keep on the lookout for more :)


	2. Quidditch Grounds

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> although this reader has probably forgotten, shiori1995 gave me this lovely Quidditch idea in the comments of my first one-shot. thank you x

Two weeks after her encounter with Draco Malfoy in the Prefect’s bathroom, Hermione was surprised to find a magnificent eagle owl swoop down in front of her at breakfast. She jumped as it landed, its leg bumping her plate and sending a few strawberries rolling off it and into her lap. The bird was looking at her expectantly and seemed impatient, so Hermione brushed the berries from her dirtied school skirt and untied the letter from around its leg. The eagle owl flew off without waiting for a reward or a reply.

Hermione did not recognize the handwriting on the letter. It was a fine mix between an elegant and untidy scrawl and the letters were quite loopy.

“Who’s that from?” Ron asked as he sat down across from her at the Gryffindor table, immediately loading his plate with sausage.

“I don’t know,” said Hermione.

Harry sat down too, offering up a groggy greeting, before helping himself to some orange juice and Hermione’s subscribed copy of _The Daily Prophet_ , which had been delivered moments before her letter. Both boys seemed distracted, so Hermione tore open the letter in her lap and pulled out a slip of parchment, which said, _“Meet me at the Quidditch pitch. Tonight. 21:00.”_

There was no signature, but there was only one person it could be from.

Hermione glanced up at the Slytherin table and was unsurprised to find Draco Malfoy watching her. He simply raised his pale eyebrows and went back to his breakfast.

Was he _insane_?

If he thought they could have a repeat of the other night, he was going to be sorely mistaken. And venturing out to the Quidditch field? In the dead of winter? He was barking.

He probably just wanted to rub it in her face that she had slept with him. It was a moment of weakness that she was not proud of, but it had happened, and she could not change that.

_And it was amazing. . . ._

But that did not matter, because it was Draco Malfoy, a Slytherin and a _Death Eater_ , and it could never happen again. She would tell him so tonight.

Hermione pushed away her plate of half-eaten toast and yogurt, claiming to Ron and Harry that she wanted to stop by the library before class. After scurrying out of the Great Hall, she instead ventured back to Gryffindor tower, which was practically vacated other than a few fifth years who clearly were skipping breakfast to finish last-minute homework. Luckily, Dean, Neville, and Seamus had been down at breakfast too, making it easy for Hermione to slip into their bedroom. She dashed over to Harry’s bed and knelt beside his trunk. With an easy “ _Alohomora_!” it popped open. Hermione stowed away her wand back into the waistband of her skirt and fished around for Harry’s invisibility cloak.

She pulled it out with a triumphant smile, locked his trunk, and snuck out of their dorm room and down the hall into her own. She folded up the crumpled cloak and put it under her pillow where it would remain until she needed it later tonight.

Hermione made it all the way to the dungeon with only a few minutes to spare before Potions began. With Double Potions with Slughorn, Arithmancy, and Double Defense Against the Dark Arts, Hermione knew it was going to be a long day. She spent most of her classes arguing with herself over daydreaming about Malfoy (which she had been doing a lot of since the night of the Christmas Party) and planning out what to say to him tonight. Maybe he just wanted to clear things up with her too – that they should just go on hating each other and pretend like nothing happened – so he would not have to think about the fact that he sullied himself with a _Mudblood_. Well, she did not want to think about it anymore either. The problem was she could not get him out of her head. For two weeks the memory of him had been taunting her, convincing her that she _loved_ what had occurred between them that night and that she wanted it to happen again, c _raved_ it even.

Sex was sex. . .so what if it was good? _It's Malfoy!_

 _It was just one night of meaningless sex_ , Hermione decided. _And you know Malfoy thinks the same._

 _Of course he thinks so_. They had not spoken since that night, after all, only sharing a few fleeting looks, mostly ending with Hermione looking away in embarrassment.

“You ok, ‘Mione? You’ve seemed a little distracted today,” said Harry during lunch. Hermione was stabbing at her food with her fork, too nervous to eat.

“Just tired,” she lied with a shrug, glancing up in time to see Draco strut into the Great Hall and sit quietly next to his friends.

The rest of the day dragged on, and Hermione had barely eaten three bites of dinner before she was making her escape to the library for the night. She tried and failed to study in her favorite corner of the library, and instead ending up retreating to her room where she stared out the window from her bed, watching snow fall lightly outside. Her room was empty – courtesy of the large game of Exploding Snap occurring downstairs – so Hermione took the time to herself to pick out a pair of jeans, a sweater, and boots. She even slipped into a clean pair of underwear that was made of soft black silk and trimmed with delicate lace. Ginny had convinced her to buy it in Hogsmeade.

Hermione felt ridiculous, but it was not as if she was wearing it for _him_. Nothing was going to happen between them anyways; it would just help her feel more confident. She slipped her clothes on over the undergarments, checking the time to be a quarter until nine. Hermione gasped and combed her hair quickly, swiping some mascara on her eyelashes before buttoning her peacoat around her. She wrapped up in her scarf and gloves and pocketed her wand before hurrying over to her pillow to retrieve the invisibility cloak. She threw it over her, and, satisfied no one would be able to even catch a glimpse of the tips of her toes, left for the Quidditch field.

She weaved through the busy common room effortlessly, and no one seemed to notice the portrait open seemingly on its own. The corridors were luckily deserted, although Hermione knew Filch and his dreadful cat was lurking around somewhere. It seemed almost too easy when Hermione snuck out the front doors. Immediately, she was shivering against the cold January night. She knew she was most likely a few minutes late as she trudged through the deepening snow. She noticed as she approached the Quidditch field that there were no footprints to follow and tried not to think about the possibility that Draco ditched her after she had spent her whole day rehearsing what she was going to say to him.

That thought melted away, however, when she stepped into the stadium and saw him standing in the middle of it. He was in an expensive looking cloak, Hermione noticed as she got closer, with silver and green trim around the edges – no doubt fur-lined on the inside. His pale skin and white-blonde hair made a stark contrast with the midnight black of his cloak and the night, and Hermione simply watched him for a moment, his face turned to the sky with his eyes closed, as if enjoying the fresh air and the wind whipping into his face.

She walked closer.

He must have heard the crunch of the snow because he turned and looked right at her. Hermione took off Harry’s invisibility cloak and tucked it under her arm.

“Are you insane, sending me that letter in front of the whole school and asking me to meet you in the freaking snow?” said Hermione, crossing her arms while looking at him sternly.

Draco kept his passive gaze on her for a few moments longer before his lips curled into a smirk.

“I suppose.”

Hermione scoffed.

“That’s all you have to say for yourself? I suppose?”

“I suppose,” chortled Draco.

Hermione stomped her foot.

“What the hell are we doing out here, Malfoy?”

“Back on the last name basis, I see,” sighed Draco, stepping up to her. “I so enjoyed when you were screaming out my name.”

Hermione gasped, and the cold air she abruptly allowed into her passageway froze her momentarily.

“You can’t say things like that,” Hermione sputtered.

“Why not?” Draco demanded, stepping closer to her.

“Because. . .because what happened – ''

“So, you _do_ regret what happened.”

“Yes – I mean no!” Hermione stomped her foot again, breathing angrily through her nose. “It just should not have happened.”

“Sounds like regret to me,” Draco said, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Just because it shouldn’t have happened does not mean that I regret that it did,” said Hermione after a tense, pregnant pause. “Look, we both know it shouldn’t have happened, and I’m here tonight to make sure that it never does again.”

“Is that so?” asked Draco, who looked like he was stifling a laugh at her expense.

“Yes, that is _so_ ,” Hermione sneered. “Isn’t that why you asked me here? To blackmail me or remind me that if I ever uttered a word about us you would cut out my tongue and feed me to your pet snake?”

“You have quite the imagination,” Draco chortled. “Why would I blackmail you when it is clear that you have no intention of selling me out?”

Hermione simply stared at him, not sure what he was on about.

“I left you alone for two weeks to see if you would run to your Gryffindork sidekicks and tell them about my Mark.”

Hermione gaped at him, her brow knit in confusion. She had never even considered telling Ron or Harry or even a staff member about seeing Draco’s Dark Mark. She had not even thought about it. In fact, she had completely forgotten about it.

“Why didn’t you?” asked Draco.

Hermione did not know how to answer him; she did not even know the answer. She simply shrugged and kicked some snow around with the toe of her boot.

“I completely expected to be locked up in Azkaban by now, seeing as I was careless enough to flash my tattoo in front of you,” said Draco. “I haven’t gotten used to it being there.”

Hermione said nothing.

“That’s not why I asked you here, though,” Draco continued. “When it was clear you weren’t going to rat me out, I knew I wanted to see you again.”

Hermione’s eyes widened, and her neck turned up to look at him so fast it cracked.

“What?” she asked, baffled.

“I can’t stop thinking about that night,” said Draco, stepping so close to her that the toes of their shoes were touching, “and considering you completely overlooked proof that I’m a Death Eater, I’m left to guess that you can’t stop thinking about it either.”

_He was right, of course._

“It does not matter how much we enjoyed that night,” Hermione admitted begrudgingly. “We both know it can’t happen again.”

“Who cares if it does?” Draco retorted. “It’s not like we would admit to anyone.”

“But we would know! We’re on different sides, Draco, and frankly, we hate each other! We’d be lying to our friends and we’d be lying to ourselves.”

Draco looked at her like he knew she was right, but he seemed relentless, and clearly was not used to being turned down.

“It’s just sex, Granger,” said Draco nonchalantly.

Hermione huffed and shoved him back with all the strength she could muster. “Sex between a Slytherin and a Gryffindor!” she argued. “And for you, it would mean sex with a _Mudblood_.”

“It’s just sex, Granger,” Draco repeated. “Meaningless sex. Who cares who its with when its as good as it was for us?”

If Hermione winced at his careless description of such an intimate act, she did not show it. Sex for her had never been meaningless, even if she had only slept with one person before Draco. Still, she had slept with Viktor Krum because she had cared for him. With Draco, she had been driven by passion – albeit an angry, hateful kind driven by a history of mutual loathing – and intense lustful desire. Had that not meant something? She thought it perhaps only meant that they were – begrudgingly – a perfectly compatible couple for sex. Clearly, neither was too blinded by their prejudices to admit that.

“I don’t think so,” was all Hermione said. She was embarrassed and cold, and simply wanted to curl up in bed with a book.

“C’mon, Granger, live a little,” said Draco when she turned to leave. “One more night of fun, and then I’ll leave you alone.”

Hermione turned back around to face him. He stood there smirking, looking at her with pleading, hungry eyes, further proving to Hermione that he just wanted one thing from her. But the snow was clinging to his pale hair, which wasn’t slicked back off his forehead like usual, and his cheeks were flushed with some color from the frigid breeze. Hermione felt her stomach lurch at how attractive he was, but she shook away the memory of his hair tangled in her fingers and those pale eyes clouded with lust as he watched her writhe on top of him.

“We can’t,” Hermione choked out, her breathing picking up the longer she was in his presence. She stumbled a few steps back, turning away from him to leave, when she felt his hand on her wrist. Before she could shake him off of her, she was tugged into a hard chest. Draco had both of her wrists in his hands, tangled in the invisibility cloak and trapped between their chests.

“Why not?” Draco whispered before dropping his lips down to hers, quickly wiping away her angry frown.

Hermione did not have time to be angry with herself at how quickly she gave into him as she began fervently returning his kiss. She noticed it was very different from the other kisses they had shared two weeks ago. Where those were driven by desire and lust, this one was more passionate, as Draco was practically beckoning her to him with every soft movement of his lips. He was ensnaring her in his trap.

With the first swipe of his tongue against her lower lip, Draco released Hermione’s wrists, coming to grip her waist and the nape of her neck instead. Hermione quickly dropped the cloak to their feet, her gloved hands immediately finding their way to the back of Draco’s neck, tugging him closer to her.

It was the kiss in the snow every girl dreamed of, and Hermione had to remind herself that it was Draco Malfoy that was standing before her and that they, in fact, did not actually like each other.

Minutes went by until they broke apart. Hermione was a flushed, trembling mess, her hands clutching the lapels of his cloak as he held her close, breathing her in as he peppered kisses across her jaw. She felt practically weak in his arms, her knees shaking under her weight, reeling in how it felt to be kissed like _that_. . .by _him_.

“Are you cold?” Draco asked, nuzzling his nose into her scarf to try to kiss at more skin.

“We’re standing in a foot of snow, what do you think?”  

“I think we should take this somewhere a bit warmer,” said Draco, taking her hand in his and leading her towards the Slytherin corner of the Quidditch pitch, his wand lit with a nonverbal “ _Lumos_ ” leading them.

Hermione stumbled through the snow after him, barely having enough time to reach down and scoop up Harry’s invisibility cloak. She was grateful when they finally reached the tunnel below the stands that would most likely lead them to the Slytherin Quidditch team’s changing room. Sure enough, Hermione was dragged into a circular tented room decorated in emerald green and silver. Open lockers lined the walls and there was a circle of benches surrounding a small, rounded furnace, its stack reaching through a hole in the top of the tent where it disappeared from view. Hermione noticed a rack of expensive and polished brooms and a chalkboard that had a diagram of Quidditch plays she could never hope to understand. She watched as Draco pulled out his wand, opening the small door in the furnace before muttering, “ _Incendio_ ”. The room was cast in shadows as a fire began to roar. Hermione quickly approached it, taking off her gloves and scarf and tossing them onto a nearby bench to warm up by the fire.

“C’mere,” said Draco, pulling her towards him by the hands. Hermione noticed his hands were much colder than hers. Draco sent her a handsome smirk, and cupped his hands over hers, bringing them to his lips to blow warm breath onto her frozen fingertips.

Hermione’s stomach fluttered pleasantly, and she raised her eyebrows at him. “You can be quite sweet when you want to be.”

Draco _smiled_ , and Hermione was quite certain her eyebrows had disappeared into her hairline.

“It’s a mood,” Draco shrugged. “It comes and goes.”

Hermione laughed, “Sounds like hormones to me.”

Draco rolled his eyes but otherwise ignored her joke. “Look at us getting along,” said Draco with a nudge to her shoulder.

“Look at you, ruining the moment,” tittered Hermione, earning a chuckle from Draco.

“I know of a couple other things we could do to ‘get along’.”

Hermione hesitated and looked down at her boots at the obvious insinuation. The sudden force of Draco’s finger under her chin, however, drew her eyes back to him. He was standing close to her again, his lips mere inches from hers.

“One night, remember?” said Draco. At Hermione’s slow nod, he was kissing her again.

It was as passionate as the last, but this kiss held raw desire and lust that had manifested during their snogging session out in the snow. Draco had his hands at Hermione’s waist, pulling her hips against his. Her hands were in his hair again, tugging him closer and Draco gave a soft groan into the kiss. Hermione was beginning to realize just how much he liked that.

When Draco’s fingers began fumbling with the buttons on her peacoat, Hermione followed suit, undoing the clasp quickly on his cloak. She pushed it off his shoulders, and it fell heavily to the ground – and yes, that was expensive fur on the inside – with a soft _thump_. Her coat was quick to follow, and Hermione was too flushed to notice that the room had not quite warmed up from the fire yet. Draco was still in his uniform. She had never noticed how good he looked in it as she pulled away from the kiss to work at his tie. The vest he was wearing hugged his chest and his dress shirt was without a crinkle. He tugged his loosened tie and vest over his head, his hair looking quite shaggy afterward. His lips attached to the exposed skin of Hermione’s neck the moment he discarded her of her scarf, and his cold hands disappeared under her sweater as she tugged off her gloves. She gasped at the onslaught of his freezing fingers, gooseflesh immediately pebbling across her skin and nipples hardening deliciously.

Hermione was unbuttoning his shirt frantically, exposing more pale, toned chest button by button. She was suddenly desperate, practically suffocating in her desire for him. It was different than last time. Then, he had walked in on her while she was already aroused, already on the edge of bliss. Now she was his to mold to his pleasure, his to bring to the edge all by himself.

Before she could push his shirt off his shoulders, Draco had tugged Hermione’s sweater off, leaving her in her black silk bra. She was very glad she had decided to put it on. Draco ran his fingers over the lace edging of the bra and swallowed Hermione’s gasp in a deep kiss when he squeezed her breasts over the intrusive material. His fingers traced the lacey straps until Hermione felt them dancing around the clasp. With a pinch of skilled fingers, the bra fell to the floor between them.

Bare hands met naked breasts and Hermione’s soft moans were softened by Draco’s tongue. She pulled back to push his shirt off and paused, her eyes lingering on the Dark Mark tainting his pale flesh. Then Draco was kissing her again, desperate to distract her from the reality of their situation. Hermione melted back into him and began working at his belt buckle, pushing his pants as far down his thighs as she could as he worked at her own buttons. Shoes were hastily kicked off and their pants were discarded. They kissed hard, tongues battling, teeth nipping until Draco pulled away. He looked around the tent inquisitively, his eyes stopping on a bench before he glanced down at his discarded cloak. He picked it up, laying it next to the furnace with the soft fur facing up, and pulled Hermione towards him again by the fingertips.

Hermione understood his idea and quickly bent down to retrieve her wand from her coat pocket. She cast a couple cushioning charms on Draco’s cloak before tossing it back towards their pile of forgotten clothes. Suddenly, Draco was picking her up behind her thighs and she grinned, wrapping her legs around his hips before she dropped her mouth back onto his. Draco kneeled down onto the soft fur of his cloak, and holding Hermione tightly, laid her down.

Hermione relaxed into the warm, cushioned cloak, her hands gripping the back of Draco’s head and neck as he began trailing kisses down her jaw, her neck. . .down between her breasts. Her breathing was picking up as his wicked tongue traveled lower, nipping at her nipples, her navel and hips as he went. His target was clear when his thumbs curled under her silk knickers. She lifted her bum off the ground and untangled her legs from around him, so Draco could tug them off. The room was warm now, but she felt cold briefly without his touch. Then he was kneeling above her, his fingers digging into her thighs as he spread her legs apart and breathed her scent in. Hermione knew she was more than ready for him.

Their eyes locked in an intense gaze, Draco’s gray eyes darkened and glazed-over in desire, staring up at her between the messy locks of his white-blonde hair. Hermione choked on a gasp at the first swipe of his tongue. Draco flattened his tongue to run through her slit again, tasting her and spreading her juices.

“Fuck,” was all he muttered before diving back in, this time sucking Hermione’s clit between his teeth and dancing his tongue across it.

Hermione was a writhing, moaning mess, already well on her way to an intense finish. She did not know how it was possible to feel _this_ good.

Draco was flicking his tongue in quick succession against her clit, prying her legs farther apart before one hand wandered up to tweak at her nipples. Hermione’s hands were in his hair, pushing him into her desperately. She felt like she should be embarrassed at how utterly desperate she was acting, but at the moment she could not bring herself to care about anything other than fucking the man bringing her to completion with his tongue. Her hands began tucking at his head, his neck, trying to pull him up but he continued to eat her out furiously. Hermione knew she was being loud. Perhaps they should have cast a silencing charm, in case Filch decided to roam the grounds. She was sure her moans were carrying up to the castle.

“Draco, please,” Hermione gasped, trying to turn his chin up and away from her. He had been watching her the whole time, basking in the sight of her legs shaking, her teeth biting into her lips, the flush of her cheeks.

“Please, just. . .” Hermione begged but could hardly form a sentence. Draco smirked as his tongue began continuously lapping at her.

“Tell me what you want,” said Draco between licks.

“You!” groaned Hermione in frustration. “I need you.”

“And I need you to be more specific,” taunted Draco.

Hermione glared down at him, and Draco punished her by sucking her clit into his mouth roughly.

“Need you to fuck me,” Hermione gasped.

Draco pulled away from her with a mischievous smirk, licking her excess arousal from his lips.

“Oh, I intend to,” said Draco. “Many times.”

He was moving on top of her again, looking down at her with unhidden desire.

“And this time, I’m on top,” added Draco before dropping his lips down to hers. Hermione could taste herself on his lips and tongue, but it seemed to only turn her on more and she kissed him back feverishly, sucking at his tongue. Draco grew impossibly harder. He pulled away to yank his underwear off as quickly as possible before returning to her kiss again. He gripped her thighs again, pulling her legs around his hips again. Hermione locked her ankles in place, her breath labored in anticipation as Draco lined up his hard cock with her entrance. She stared at his own arousal before dragging her eyes up his muscled torso to meet his gray eyes.

“I like you like this,” Draco commented idly. “Spread out under me while I fuck you,” he groaned as he pushed into her. Their eyes broke contact momentarily as Draco squeezed his shut, dropping to his elbows beside her head.

“Merlin, Granger, you’re so fucking wet.”

Hermione could only moan in response, her jaw dropped open in pleasure.

“So tight,” Draco added when he was completely sheathed inside of her. Hermione wasted no time in wrapping her arms around his neck, pulling him down to her.

Draco buried his face in her neck as he began moving, one hand under her bum to move her hips up to meet his movements. He nipped at her neck, no doubt sucking bruises into her skin. Hermione moved with him, gasping lightly every time his hips slammed into hers. He was moving inside of her deliciously, slowly, brushing against the most sensitive parts of her. The coarse hairs above their connection were brushing against Hermione’s swollen clit with every thrust. Hermione could feel the edge of completion coming quickly. Her legs were beginning to shake and her stomach flutter, a knot coiling tightly below her navel with every tug and pull of Draco’s cock inside of her.

They were moving together in a simultaneous dance, and Hermione knew this felt different from any of the other times she had had sex. She did not know if Draco felt it, too; he was buried in her neck, smothering her with kisses. Perhaps it was the atmosphere that had them holding each other and moving together. Draco had laid Hermione down on the makeshift bed, amid a dark room lit only by a fire. Other than the crackle of logs breaking, the only other sound in the Slytherin changing room was Draco and Hermione. Draco groaned every time Hermione squeezed her muscles around or tugged particularly hard on his hair. Hermione was moaning with every thrust as Draco fucked her deliberately slowly, gasping each time his teeth nipped a sensitive part of her neck.

 _This was passionate_ , Hermione realized. _Is this what making love feels like?_ Hermione wondered, but did not allow the thought to be taken too far. She was sleeping with Draco Malfoy, not a boyfriend she harbored feelings for. Hermione had agreed to this night being their last, after all. They could not take this any further. Their desire had just resulted in slow passion, she decided, if only to savor the memory of each other.

Draco’s hand moved from under Hermione’s bum to rub circles around her clit, allowing Hermione to drop her legs from around his hips and spread them open for him. Draco settled comfortably between her thighs, flicking her nub quickly as Hermione began lifting her hips to meet his thrusts.

He was driving her to the edge so suddenly that Hermione gasped out a warning, “Draco, I’m gonna – “

“I know,” whispered Draco soothingly in her ear, nipping at the lobe before peppering kisses across her jaw and back to her lips. Hermione groaned into his shoulder as the knot in her stomach coiled even tighter and her legs began to shake uncontrollably at the merciless attention Draco was giving her bundle of nerves.

“Please, please, please,” Hermione was begging uncontrollably, incoherently. Draco simply let her give in to her desires as he pressed down on her clit, rubbing tight, fast circles as he thrust into her, picking up speed.

He rammed into her g-spot and Hermione moaned the loudest yet, her voice breaking off into a squeal when Draco pinched her clit. It was what drove her over the edge, however, and Hermione became a shaking, gasping mess underneath Draco’s cock.

Draco must have been closer to his own finish than Hermione presumed, for the spasms of her muscles milked him to completion. He groaned loudly into her mouth as he stilled inside of her and came. Hermione kept her hips moving, drawing out the orgasm for both of them.

Eventually, they both stilled, and Draco pulled out of her. Hermione’s arms were still weakly draped around his neck and their kisses were still feverish in the aftermath of their mutual pleasure. Draco moved to rest beside her, turning Hermione on her side by the waist and pulling her flush against him, never breaking their kiss. Their hands were still traveling, Draco’s stroking up and down Hermione’s bare back while she ran her fingertips over the taut muscles on his chest.

Draco made a show of not wanting their time together to end, chasing down her lips every time Hermione tried to pull away. With a giggle, Hermione put two fingers between their lips and pushed him away. She rolled over, reaching for her wand and summoning her coat before she transfigured it to a blanket. She turned back to face a smirking Draco, who had clearly taken the opportunity to stare at her arse and threw the blanket over both of them before sinking down again into the soft fur of their makeshift bed.

“I thought you might be leaving,” said Draco with a hint of insecurity, laying his head down next to hers.

“Not yet,” sighed Hermione with a reassuring smile. “I did promise you one last night, and if I’m not mistaken, that means you have two hours left.”

Draco raised one pale eyebrow and pulled her closer to him, tweaking a nipple playfully. “Two hours is plenty of time to give you at least six more orgasms,” he said with a wink. Hermione’s stomach fluttered at the thought.

“I think you put too much faith in yourself,” said Hermione with a smirk to rival his.

“I think you underestimate me,” said Draco, drawing her in for a quick kiss. Hermione sighed and melted into it, her legs tangling with his.

“I can’t believe I’m here with _you_ of all people,” Hermione said as she pulled away.

“Me either,” admitted Draco. “Who knew that out of all the birds I’ve boned at this school. . .” Draco trailed off under the annoyed glare of Hermione.

“I don’t need to know that stuff, Malfoy,” said Hermione, her face pinched in disgust at the thought of him and Pansy Parkinson going at it.

“What I’m trying to say,” began Draco, clearing his throat, “is that I didn’t know sex could be this good with someone, ya know? I guess that’s why I don’t want to give this up.”

Hermione shot him a look as if to say, “not this subject again”. Draco glared at her sternly.

“Look, why do you have to read into this? I know what you were doing in the bathroom two weeks ago before I came in. Getting yourself off, right? You were desperate and worked up enough to pounce on me, weren’t you?” Draco’s tone was harsh. Hermione’s face was flushed with anger and embarrassment and she sat up quickly, ripping the blanket from Draco and covering herself with it.

“I don’t appreciate you – “

“I’m just trying to prove a point,” huffed Draco. “Lay back down.”

Hermione gave in to his demand but opted not to share the blanket.

“My point is that we’ve enjoyed our time together, right?” Draco asked. Hermione reluctantly nodded. “You want sex. I want sex. We have good sex together.”

“That does not take away the fact that we have a history we cannot change – “

“I can put my prejudice aside when it benefits me,” said Draco with a smirk that was wiped clean off at the look on Hermione’s face.

“Beneficial to either of us or not,” said Hermione firmly, “that doesn’t change the fact that I will always be wondering whether you still think of me as, how did you word it, a _filthy little Mudblood_?”

Hermione’s anger had returned full force and she sat up again, this time with the intention of leaving. Draco’s hand on her wrist stopped her and she felt him slide behind her. His hands came up to rub her arms and he dropped a kiss onto her shoulder. “If you can try to forget about all I’ve done, I can try to make it up to you.”

Her temper slowly dissolved as she was pulled back down to lay next to Draco. Was he really asking for her forgiveness in exchange for a chance to prove himself a good guy? Hermione knew full well that, outside of the bed, Draco Malfoy was _not_ a good guy.

“Mutual, incredible sex, Granger. What d’you say?”

Hermione sighed dramatically. This was a _terrible_ idea. But it was just sex, right? What’s the harm in that?

“Perhaps I’ll give you the rest of the night to persuade me,” said Hermione, offering the blanket to Draco again. He took it with a hopeful smile and leaned forward to capture her lips in a soft kiss.

“So, who left you so high and dry that you had to bed a Slytherin to quench the thirst?” Draco asked, chiding her.

Hermione’s face was stern as she slapped at his chest and said, “Not the time, Malfoy.” Her eyes, however, with twinkling with mirth. “Don’t ask about my sex life and I swear to Merlin I won’t ask about yours.”

Draco huffed but his smile proved he was being playful. He pulled her back into a kiss.

“Wait,” he said, pulling away abruptly, “please don’t tell me it was Potter or Weasley.”

Hermione laughed at the insinuation and the way he practically spat out their names as if they left a bad taste in his mouth.

“Ew. Absolutely not,” said Hermione with a pinched nose.

“Thank Salazar,” breathed Draco before he returned to her abandoned lips.

Hermione kissed him back with renewed fervor, her fingers finding comfort in the hairs at the nape of his neck. When the kiss began heating up again, Draco pulled away. “So. . .about that two hours?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it has been brought to my attention (by my own self) that this chapter did not have nearly enough smut in it. well, I agree! however, I have decided to make this ficlet a few chapters long, so while this chapter built upon Draco and Hermione's very dysfunctional new relationship, the rest will be completely filled with their many rendezvous to come. in other words, I will be making up the lack of smut to you in the last chapter. 
> 
> perhaps let me know what you think of this short fic so far in the comments, or ideas you want to run by me for future chapters. 
> 
> requests are eagerly accepted for pairings/plots for my 'one-shot to-write' list :)
> 
> thank you all for reading and leaving your sweet kudos! I am overwhelmed x


	3. Prefect Patrol

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco and Hermione sneak into a broom closet during night patrol

Hermione felt a warm hand on her shoulder, shaking her awake in the midst of her napping. She groggily turned over, noticing the sun was beginning to rise, and was faced with a pair of pale grey eyes. 

“What time is it?” Hermione asked with a pout, burying her face in Draco’s chest. 

“A little before six,” said Draco, and Hermione felt his fingers run through her hair. She sighed and glanced up at him. 

“I don’t want to go to class.” Hermione groaned and wrapped her arms around Draco’s bare waist, who was now propped up on one elbow. 

“I’m surprised to hear you of all people say that.”

Hermione did not reply at first, until she smiled playfully and insinuated, “Well, we do have at least another two hours before breakfast.”

She sat up on her knees, allowing the blanket to fall from where it had been tucked under her chin. Draco shamelessly ran his eyes over her naked figure, drinking her in and memorizing every inch of her. He returned her smirk and grabbed her waist before pulling her on top of him for a kiss. 

They had been at it all night; Hermione had lost track of how many times Draco had brought her to completion. Just when she would curl up in his arms to sleep for a few fleeting minutes, Draco would snake his hand around her to rub her clit in torturous movements, bringing her to yet another shuddering release. Then, for a while, they would both nod off into a content sleep. Hermione was alarmed by how comfortable she felt falling asleep in the arms of Draco Malfoy. 

Hermione deepened their kiss by weaving her fingers into Draco’s hair and teasing her tongue on his bottom lip. Draco immediately granted her access, taking control immediately and rolling on top of her. The blanket was kicked further away as she spread her legs further to accommodate Draco on top of her. She was still wet from their previous couplings throughout the night, and Draco’s kisses were quickly heating her up again. Draco, however, was not hardening quick enough for Hermione’s desperate inhibitions, and moving her lips down his jaw and neck, trailed a sly hand down his abdomen and to his growing length. He was warm and thick in her hand, and she gave an experimental pump and squeeze. Draco tensed above her and groaned out his pleasure, his stomach tightening as well as his cock. She teased him to full length, switching the movements of her wrists occasionally and running her thumb over his oozing tip. When he was deliciously hard, she guided him into her. 

Hermione sighed in delight, wanton with the feeling of him inside her again. He stretched her deliciously every time, and Draco was beginning to pick up on Hermione’s clear desire for pain accompanying pleasure. 

She met him halfway for every thrust, rolling her hips in a dangerous pattern that had had Draco groaning into her ear all night long. Her ankles locked around his back and he thrust even deeper into her. Hermione moaned louder. The room was filled with their moans just as it had been all night and morning long. And for the countless time, Draco brought Hermione to a shuddering orgasm, her scream cut off as she bit into the delicate skin of his neck. This drew him over the edge and he came, his hands gripping Hermione’s waist and his face buried in the soft curls of her hair. 

 

>

 

“When can I see you again?” asked Draco, holding her gaze as he buttoned up his dress shirt.

“Maybe it isn’t a good idea to see each other again so soon,” said Hermione, tying her hair up in a bun and tossing Draco his vest. He thanked her quickly and threw it over his head. 

“Does that matter if we are discreet? We have been so far – ‘’

“I know, Malfoy, but that does not mean its wise. If anyone caught on to us – ‘’

“They won’t. I can’t let that happen. This may just be social suicide for you, but I’m putting myself in danger.”

“And I’m not?” Hermione retorted, straightening her sweater. “We’re on opposite sides of a war.”

“But my side would kill me for being connected to a Muggleborn. You may get a slap on the wrist, perhaps even lose some friends, but I would lose my life.”

Hermione was now smoothing down creases in her sweater and jeans nervously. “That just even more reason to convince me that we should not be doing this, no matter how good it is.”

“No,” Draco said firmly, shaking his head and stepping forward to grab a hold of her waist. “There isn’t a point in giving this up if we’re careful, which we have been, and we will be. Voldemort does not know my pattern at Hogwarts; neither does my family. There is no one above me that could rat me out except Snape, and he’s my godfather, he wouldn’t.”

Hermione sighed and leaned into his embrace. “I’m sorry. This is wonderful, but I am scared.”

“There is no need to be. As long as we trust one another with our secrets.”

Hermione scoffed and glanced up at him. “You have a secret, not me.”

“Your secret is that you are fucking a Death Eater and loving it. I intend to keep that dirty secret all to myself,” said Draco with an arrogant smirk. Hermione laughed and pushed him away playfully but did not deny his words. They were frighteningly true, and she knew it. 

“Aren’t you on duty for patrol tonight?” asked Hermione, her mind forming a plan to see Draco soon again. 

“Yes,” he said with a roll of his eyes, “with Weaslebee.”

Hermione giggled. “I’ll ask him to switch with me. I’m patrolling with Ernie tomorrow, but would much rather escape his company if I am able.”

“I can’t decide if I would rather be around the Weasel or Macmoron,” said Draco, his face pinched in obvious disdain. Hermione stifled a laugh as she pulled on her coat. 

“Well it won’t matter because you are stuck with me tonight. . .and since you are, Malfoy, I highly expect you to take me hard against the wall.”

Hermione reveled in the way Draco froze in shock, staring at her heatedly with mild surprise. Before he could tempt her into another round, she left a chaste kiss on his cheek and left for the castle. 

>

Lessons dragged on that day. As soon as Hermione had returned to the castle that morning, she had showered, changed, and left for an early breakfast before her roommates had even managed to roll out of bed. Apparently, no one had noticed her absence in the dormitory that night. It wasn’t rare that she would spend late hours in the library. 

After breakfast, she had left Ron and Harry to their eggs and potatoes and had dashed back to Gryffindor tower to discreetly return Harry’s Invisibility cloak before class began. Draco had not even glanced at her all day. They had one lesson together and saw each other at each meal. Hermione had watched him discreetly, entranced and turned on all day by the memories of the nights before. It made her giddy for tonight, as long as she could switch patrol with Ron. She brought the subject up to him at dinner. 

“Ronald, could we switch night shifts tonight and tomorrow. I have an exam in Ancient Runes and I would prefer not to cram the night before.”

“I suppose. But I’m on with Malfoy tonight, not that we ever stick together. Will you feel safe patrolling with him?” said Ron, sounding concerned while piling steak tips onto his plate. 

“I don’t like the idea of you alone with him. And since when do you cram the night before an exam?” Harry chimed in. 

“There’s just a lot of material. And don’t be ridiculous, Harry, I’ll be fine. Malfoy is harmless – no matter what you think of him,” she added upon seeing Harry’s mouth open in protest. She felt almost sick lying to him. She and Ron had been denying his accusation of Malfoy’s Dark Mark all semester, and now she knew the truth. “I’ll keep a few floors between us, you needn’t worry,” she assured them both. She caught Ginny’s eye, who was looking at her curiously, and looked quickly away. 

“So, its ok then, Ron?” 

“Yeah, fine. Just means I get to put it off one more day,” said Ron, shoveling a spoonful of rice into his mouth. 

Hermione couldn’t contain her smile, sneaking a glance at Draco. He was watching her, smirking. 

“But you’ll send a Patronus if you need help, won’t you?” asked Harry. 

Hermione looked away from Draco and rolled her eyes. “I will, but I doubt that will be necessary, Harry.”

“Its Malfoy,” stated Ron, shooting the Slytherin table a glare as he bit roughly into his chicken leg. “Anything is possible with that prat.”

 

>

 

At nine that night, Hermione dashed out of the busy Gryffindor common room for patrol. As she made her way down to the ground floor, she realized neither she nor Draco had specified a meeting place. She supposed, if he was on time, he was starting his patrol in the dungeons. But perhaps he had made his way up another staircase to meet her by Gryffindor tower? Hermione sighed in defeat and, hoping they would happen to run into each other in the vast corridors of Hogwarts, set off on her patrol of the ground floor. 

She checked the Great Hall and the classrooms, which were empty except for a few perusing house-elves that were cleaning. Hermione wished them a goodnight and left them to their business, ascending the staircase to the second floor, which was just as uneventful as the last. On the third floor, Hermione ran into Mrs. Norris, who hissed at her, red eyes narrowing at Hermione’s Prefect badge, before dashing around the corner. The fourth floor proved slightly more eventful when Hermione caught sight of a poorly disguised Gryffindor second year slithering down the hall beneath a cheap Invisibility cloak. The young boy, who seemed to have no remorse for his reactions, claimed to be heading to the kitchen for a snack since he had missed dinner for “his studies”. Hermione scowled at the troublemaker and took ten points from Gryffindor. 

“And I know for a fact Draco Malfoy is patrolling a floor below, so don’t even think about not returning to the common room. I don’t believe a Slytherin would be so forgiving, would you?”

That surely wiped the smirk of the young boy’s face. He apologized and left hastily, Hermione watching him ascend the stairs to Gryffindor tower with a sharp, disapproving eye. 

By the time Hermione had reached the seventh floor, she was tired and disappointed that she had not found Draco. The torches in this corridor were not lit, so Hermione took out her wand, muttered “Lumos”, and began checking the few cluttered classrooms that were on the seventh floor. They were all empty; no students and no Draco. 

Maybe he had been messing with her? It was likely, and if he was, it was her own fault, Hermione thought. She had gotten herself into this ridiculous situation. He was a Death Eater, and she had not said anything! Why? Was it because of the different side of him she was beginning to see? What if sleeping with her, being with her, was a cry for help? But then again, why her? Why not just tell someone? And when was the right time to ask him? She didn’t want to ruin what they had. He was her secret and he was…good. Hermione was beginning to think that Draco Malfoy really was a good person. 

Sure, he had said what they had was just good sex, but they both had agreed to stop after last night and look where Hermione was now, lying to her friends in order to hook up with him during patrol duty. And was it just sex? Of course, it was. Hermione shook her head to herself. She didn’t want to read any further into it, but what about the way he had held her last night? What about the flicker of fear in his eyes when he thought she was leaving? The careful way he calmed her rising temper last night when they bickered, the gentle kiss to her shoulder, even the shy sort of way he asked if she regretted what they did that first night in the Prefects’ bathroom. 

What about his comment on forgiving and forgetting? “If you can try to forget about all I’ve done, I can try to make it up to you,” Draco had said. It wasn’t exactly an apology, but it was a start. At least he was acknowledging that he had done many things wrong and wanted to make things right. 

Hermione was growing more and more confused. She thought about all these things, and the almost gentle and preserving way they moved together last night, like neither wanted to forget the memory of them so close and so good together. But then her thoughts would venture to his arms pulling her close and wrapping around her back and the muscles in them flexing as they moved and to the black mark tattooed into his pale skin. In the back of her head, there was the reality of what he was and probably what he was capable of. Had he killed? Did he kill for Voldemort over the break and then come back to Hogwarts and hold her with those same bloody hands, like nothing had happened? Or maybe he was the one dying, losing his mind inside. Maybe that is why he came to her, of all people: his worst enemy, although Hermione wasn’t so sure that they were that now. 

But maybe it all really was a trick. Maybe Draco was following orders, being the loyal Death Eater that he was raised to be in the footsteps of his father. After all, Hermione was part of the Golden Trio, best friend of Harry Potter. It was likely that Voldemort wanted her, wanted to use her as a weapon against Harry, and wanted Draco to bring her to him. 

“What’s going on in that brilliant head of yours?” 

Hermione jumped and spun around. Draco was leaning next to a window across the hall, watching her curiously. 

“You’ve been standing in that doorway for about two minutes,” said Draco. 

Hermione cleared her throat, shaking away her thoughts that had her zoned out and staring into an empty classroom. She closed the door and looked up at Draco through her lashes. 

“Sorry,” she mumbled. “I wasn’t focusing.” 

“I’ve been looking all over the whole bloody castle for you. You must move quick.” Draco pushed off of the wall and walked towards her. 

Hermione, still caught up in her pessimistic thoughts and worrying, took a step back, her back hitting the door. 

“What’s wrong?” asked Draco, stopping in front of her. 

“N-nothing,” stuttered Hermione. “Sorry, I was just…you just frightened me is all. You shouldn’t sneak up on people,” she said sternly, pushing past him rougher than necessary. Draco stumbled and shot a concerned look at the back of her head. 

“Sorry I scared you,” said Draco, grabbing her wrist to stop her from walking away from him. Hermione wondered if that was it; if even though he was suddenly almost kind and treating her as an equal, he still scared her. 

“It’s fine. I was just in my head, is all, and you frightened me.”

Then Draco was sending her a familiar sneer, although it wasn’t as malicious as the ones she had received in the past. “So that’s why you’re acting so weird. You were in your head and you were overthinking this again, weren’t you? And now you’re afraid of me.”

Could he already read her emotions that well, or was she just that obvious?

“I’m not acting weird! I was just thinking about how dangerous this is, what we’re doing, and how we really can’t trust one another,” said Hermione. 

“And why not?” replied Draco, dropping his grip from her wrist. “If anything, this is a lose-lose situation for the both of us. Although, I’m sure you’d find some pride in outing me as a Death Eater to Potter and Dumbledore,” spat Draco, angry now and taking a step away from Hermione. 

“If I was going to do that, you don’t think I would have already?” cried Hermione, getting defensive. But why hadn’t she told Dumbledore or even Harry? “I haven’t said a word, have I? That doesn’t mean no one will find out!”

“If you’re talking about the Dark Lord, there is no way he could find out about us. I’ve taken precautions on everything secret to me, and if you think I would deliberately put you in harms way, you’re wrong!”

“Oh, you wouldn’t, would you? Not even though you’re a Death Eater, and his follower, and I am the best friend of the very boy You-Know-Who wants dead!” 

“What are you insinuating?” growled Draco. 

“That this could be a trick! That I don’t know what you’re capable of!” 

“Get out of your head!” yelled Draco. “I wasn’t ordered to get close to you and I’m not playing a petty trick on you either!”

“How can I not wonder it, though, when the path you’ve chosen makes me think the worst!”

“Did everything I say to you last night mean nothing!?” cried Draco, gripping her shoulders. “I wasn’t ordered to tell you any of those things to trick you into sleeping with me or lure you to the Dark Lord! I thought you would –“ 

“Shush!” whispered Hermione, grabbing his wrist tightly. 

Draco scoffed. “Do not tell me to –“

“Shut up!” Hermione pressed three fingers to his lips. They were both silent for a second until a faint ‘meow’ could be heard around the corner. Then there was a flicker of a lamp light reflected against the corridor wall. 

Hermione and Draco’s eyes widened and Hermione began tugging on his wrist. Draco got the hint and raced down the hall, pulling them into the nearest broom cupboard. Hermione pulled out her wand and whispered a locking spell on the door. All went silent, except for their breathing. Hermione was standing practically flush to Draco’s chest, and she could feel the warmth of every puff of his breath on her forehead.

The patter of feet entered their corridor and they heard Filch’s usual mumbling and groaning to his mangy cat. A door to a classroom opened and closed. Then another. 

“I know yer up here. I could hear ya shoutin,” rumbled Filch. 

Another door opened, one after the other until the light of Filch’s lantern was close enough to shine light under the door. Hermione’s nose was nearly pressed into Draco’s dress shirt, and she glanced up at him. He was looking right at her, no longer looking as angry as before, but not quite cheerful. The doorknob jiggled and Hermione jumped. She felt the pressure of Draco’s hand come up to her lower back. She leaned into his touch. 

The door shook some more as Filch tried to open it. The corner of Hermione’s mouth turned up and Draco’s eyes softened a bit more. The hinges shook again and then Filch was moving down the hallway once more, telling Mrs. Norris they should check the lower floors to catch the students trying to escape back to their dormitories. 

Hermione and Draco stayed quiet, hearing the faint shuffling of Filch and his cat leaving the corridor. Without the lantern light peeping through the cracks in the door, it was dark again. Despite that, Hermione could still feel Draco’s eyes on her. His hand had not left her back. 

“I’m sorry for what I said,” whispered Hermione, shuffling an inch closer to Draco. “You have not given me a reason not to trust you, so I shouldn’t be questioning your word.” 

Hermione felt his other hand graze her waist. She was pulled against him, suddenly. 

“This isn’t going to work if we don’t trust each other,” whispered Draco. Hermione felt that he was close; his breath fanned out against her lips. She leaned in. 

“I know,” she replied quietly. Her lips brushed his, and then she leaned in some more to press her lips to his. 

Hermione’s hands came up to Draco’s chest, and she pressed his back into the wall, stepping in between his legs to press into him harder and deepen the kiss. Hands became tangled in hair and lips became wet with kisses. Hermione could feel her cheeks becoming warm in reaction to Draco’s smooth lips and curious hands. She knew he was feeling the same way as her by the lump in his trousers pressing into her pubic bone. 

This was different than last night. It was fast and heated, probably built on by their shouting match some minutes earlier. 

In one swift move, Draco had turned them around and Hermione now found her back to the wall. She tipped her head back as Draco began running his lips down her chin, neck, pushing her robes aside to expose the delicate skin of her shoulders. Hermione felt his hands grip behind her thighs, and suddenly she was being lifted. Draco pushed her into the wall with his hips, securing her between him and the wall so she wouldn’t slide. Hermione’s hands came to his broad shoulders, and she locked her ankles around his waist for more support. However, her fingers weaved their way into his hair to press him closer as he pressed kisses down her chest. She pulled him back up to her lips. 

The kiss grew more intense, and tongues came out to explore. Hermione was frantic in the moment, just wanting to unbutton Draco’s shirt and show him how sorry she really was for not trusting him. She decided to do just that, and without breaking the kiss, Hermione’s fingers found their way to the top button of his collar and began working down. She tore the flaps of his shirt open to run the tips of her cold fingers across his warm skin and muscle. Draco’s breath hitched in his throat and he kissed her harder. Without breaking the kiss, Hermione lit her wand silently and felt around until she set it down on a shelf. She knew they would both want to see each other when the time came. 

Draco dropped her back to the floor of the broom cupboard and pulled their hips together, brushing the parts of them that were desperate for each other the most. Hermione decided they were both wearing too many clothes. She needed to feel every part of him; she needed to feel something. 

It was as if Draco had read her mind. His knee moved to part her legs and then his thigh was pressing against her, his hand pushing her skirt up so the knee-length fabric wouldn’t get in the way. Hermione’s lips parted at the friction, the feel of Draco’s rough trousers rubbing through her thin underwear. Their kisses had ceased for a moment, Draco simply enjoying watching her as she writhed against thigh, trying to feel as much as she could. Hermione closed her eyes to avoid his intense gaze, as the heat from her lower half, her cheeks, and his eyes were becoming too much. She pulled him back to her lips to avoid the silence and his gaze, but Draco had other plans. 

He devoured her lips in feverish kisses before gripping a fist full of her hair and yanking it to the side. Hermione gasped. Her neck now exposed, Draco went in for the taking, sucking and biting and licking at the sensitive skin. In a sudden move, Hermione’s shirt was ripped open by greedy hands. Buttons went flying and she moaned. 

As soft and heated lips moved down her chest, Hermione pushed Draco’s robes and shirt from his shoulders, taking in his smooth skin rippled with lightly toned muscle. She then did the same to herself, allowing him access to the rest of her skin. What Draco wanted though, was still shielded from his hungry eyes by white lace. He pulled away from her shoulder to glance down where her skirt was hiding what he longed to be inside of. Hermione watched him, shirtless, cheeks pink, and hair tousled, and hoped he was wondering if she was wearing matching underwear. She smirked up at him, reached behind her, and undid the zip on her grey school skirt. It fell to the floor around her ankles; she stepped out of it and brushed it to the side. 

 

Draco swallowed thickly and ran his eyes shamelessly up and down her figure, drinking in the tan of her skin and the soft curve of her stomach, eyeing the white lace ensemble with an obvious desire. White was innocent, and although she looked the part of the shy, pure schoolgirl, Hermione knew very well that she was anything but innocent last night with Draco. She wanted him to know it, too. 

But apparently, Draco was done watching. Hermione found herself pressed between him and the wall once more as her mouth was devoured in a feverish kiss. His hands were on her waist and then moving up the smooth skin that stretched across her ribs, his thumbs rubbing patterns that made Hermione shiver. Greedy hands cupped white lace and squeezed, eliciting a gasp and a moan. 

“Need to feel you,” Draco mumbled against Hermione’s swollen lips. Then his hands were moving to her back, undoing the clasp to her bra, and her nipples tightened and stood straight against the new cold in the air. Draco’s thumbs returned to her breasts to warm them, pinching and twisting and pulling. Hermione kissed him harder. 

But eventually, touch was not enough, and they both knew they needed to really feel, and soon. Draco was kissing down her neck again, nipping along her collarbone and then down to her breasts. Hermione tugged on his hair when she felt his lips wrap around one nipple, laving it with attention before moving to the next. Then he was moving down again, farther, until he was kissing around her navel and Hermione was pulling in deep, raspy breaths. He was on his knees, his immaculate trousers collecting dust and her hands still in his hair. His hands were on her calves stroking up and down the soft skin before moving to the back of her thighs, squeezing and kneading them before grabbing her backside rather roughly. Hermione moaned, thrusting her hips forward and then pressing her bum back into Draco’s greedy hands. 

“Fuck, I love your ass,” said Draco suddenly, looking up at her behind pale lashes. 

It was crude and naughty, but Hermione’s stomach fluttered at the compliment and her breathing picked up even more. How was it possible that he could sound so sexy just saying those five words?

Hermione decided not to respond, particularly because she did not know what to say. Instead, she pressed her ass farther into him, arching her back to give him what he wanted. 

From there, Draco wasted no time. Hermione watched under hooded lids as he drank her in before yanking down her underwear. He lifted one of her ankles rather delicately to help her step out of the skimpy white material. She smiled when she watched Draco stare rather curiously at the white converse on her feet. She imagined he was making some kind of Muggle joke to himself. 

He glanced up at her and his lips quirked up in a small smirk when he caught her smiling at him. But then he was all business again, now faced with her lower region, glistening with her juices and ready for him. Draco licked his lips, more than happy to dive in for a taste, but Hermione stopped him. 

“None of that. I need you now,” she said, trying to pull him into a standing position. As much as she wanted to feel his mouth on her, she was practically throbbing for him and she knew she wasn’t quite ready to return the favor. 

Draco stood to his feet, a smirk hanging off of his kiss-swollen lips, and pushed Hermione up against the wall. He brought his hand between them, running a finger through her arousal, before dipping it in curiously and pushing it in further. Hermione gasped and then moaned, her head falling back against the wall, holding Draco’s clouded gaze as he pumped one finger in and out of her. 

“I just wanted to make sure you were ready,” he said, holding his smirk. “Clearly, you didn’t need my tongue to get you dripping wet for me.” 

Hermione watched him, her eyes hooded and her lips swollen and parted as he took his finger out of her and brought it, coated in her juices, to his lips. 

Hermione had always thought Draco Malfoy had full and unfairly curved, aristocratic lips. She supposed she could admit it now that she had noticed them before. And now, with the predicament they were in, she was practically addicted to them. Seeing them wrapped around his finger, glistening with her arousal that he had caused, made Hermione feel a certain wild desire that she had never felt before. 

She reached out, her hands as greedy as Draco’s lips, and forcefully pulled his belt out of the loop in his trousers. Within seconds, his belt was undone and his zipper was being pulled down. She popped open the button on his trousers, her fingers gracing past the tent his arousal was making in the fabric, and looked up at him expectantly. Draco was frozen, watching her with wide eyes, his finger still between his lips. 

“Draco, I need you to fuck me. Right now.”

They didn’t waste another second. Both of them fumbled, panting and gasping, to push down Draco’s trousers and underwear. Hermione was watching him, hungry and desperate, eyeing his straining cock with unhidden desire. His garments were added to the pile of discarded clothes before he promptly pushed her into the wall again, his arousal pressing into her stomach, and kissed her fiercely. Tongues battled, teeth nipped, and hands wandered. Hermione squealed as strong hands gripped the backs of her thighs and lifted her up. 

“As you wish, Granger. I’m going to fuck you into the wall, now.”

Hermione returned his smirk and wrapped her arms and legs around him, trusting him completely with her weight. 

Draco positioned them against the wall as easily as he could, and when they were steady, he slid into Hermione with one eager push. They both groaned, eyes rolling and lips parting. Draco dropped his forehead, damp with perspiration in the tight broom closet, onto Hermione’s chest. They both moaned together, sighing out profanities as he began to move. It was not at all gentle. Draco said he was going to fuck her into the wall, and that’s exactly what he did. 

Perhaps they should have put a silencing spell on their little broom closet, but all was forgotten amidst Hermione’s loud moans as Draco pounded into her. Hermione wasn’t even sure how Draco was managing, able to hold up her weight and move so quickly at the same time. She let him grip her thighs as hard as he needed to, welcoming the pain as it brought her more pleasure. Her hips jerked to meet his every thrust, her fingers gripping onto a nearby shelf, the others squeezing Draco’s shoulder. 

They moved together in a fast rhythm, as if they were made to. Hermione knew it was different; different from Viktor, wondering if this could every compare to anything or anyone else. Draco felt it too. 

“Gods,” Hermione gasped when Draco adjusted their position, pulling all the way out and then slamming back in. She realized she wasn’t going to last long. 

“Draco…I’m gonna – I can’t hold it!”

Draco groaned, pulled out of her, and turned her around. 

“Hands on the wall,” he demanded. A shiver spread from the bottom of Hermione’s spine up to her ears, reddening them, and she did as instructed. Draco gripped her waist and pulled her bottom half towards him, stretching out her back. “On your toes, and don’t come down unless I tell you too.”

Again, Hermione did as instructed. She did like being taught, after all. 

A moan broke from her throat as Draco pushed back into her. She was even wetter than before. He thrust into her, hard, before leaning forward and brushing the hair to one side of her neck. Hermione felt his breath on her ear and she swallowed, trying to anticipate his next move. There was something exciting about this position, not being able to see him, not being able to know what he’s doing. 

“You’re not going to cum until I say you can, got it?” came Draco’s voice, his lips brushing her ear. “You’re going to wait for me to cum, and when you do, I want you screaming out my name.” 

Gooseflesh pebbled Hermione’s skin, and she was taken back to that first night in the Prefect’s bathtub, when Draco had said almost exactly the same thing. 

Hermione smirked, turning over her shoulder to meet his eye in the near darkness, and said playfully, “Yes sir.”

Draco’s pale eyes darkened and his lips parted. Hermione raised her brow at his reaction. And then he was pulling out and slamming back into her again. Hermione gasped at the sudden movement, steadying herself against the wall so her head would not bump against it. She pushed her arse back to meet his every thrust, staying on her toes although it was becoming painful. Perhaps, that was why it felt so good. Hermione wondered what else she liked in bed, and what Draco could show her. 

It seemed that her orgasm was approaching in time with the cramp forming in her calves. 

They felt perfect wrapped around each other, slick with sweat, curses falling from their lips. Draco moved in a devilish way, hitting that certain spot in Hermione every time to make her moan louder and louder. When Draco was nearing his release, and Hermione was very clearly trying to prevent hers, he reached a hand around to rub her clit. 

“Draco, don’t or I’ll – “ 

“Shh, cum for me, love. Let me hear you screaming my name.”

With a pinch to her clit and a cheeky slap to her bum, Hermione was pushed over the edge into a shuddering release. 

“Oh gods, Draco!” she cried, before being reduced to a chorus of moans. 

Draco’s eyes fluttered, the feeling of Hermione’s cunt convulsing around him becoming too much. With one last, hard thrust, Draco came to his finish, stilling while holding onto Hermione’s waist for dear life. 

“Fuck,” he groaned, in complete bliss, which was helped along by Hermione, still coming down from her own high and trying to keep Draco’s going. 

She continued to grind her arse around Draco’s softening cock until their breathing had somewhat returned to normal. Hermione leaned against the wall for support when Draco slipped out of her. 

“Think Filch is on his way back?” Draco said after a few minutes of dressing in silence.

Hermione smiled and continued repairing her shirt with her wand. When all the buttons had sewn themselves back into place, she began buttoning her school shirt back up. 

“We weren’t that loud,” she said, knowing full well Gryffindor tower may have heard her screams  
.   
“I beg to differ.” 

Hermione glanced up at Draco, hearing the smirk in his voice. He was leaning against the opposite wall, his pants hanging low and unbuckled on his hips, and his shirt wide open. Hermione licked her lips, gazing up his toned chest and his red lips and tousled white blonde hair. He really was a sight for sore eyes.

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer,” said Draco, his smirk widening. 

Hermione only returned his smirk, not denying that she had indeed been staring. Instead she stepped into him, grazing her fingers playfully over the bulge in Draco’s underwear, giggling when his smirk was wiped clean off his face. Without a word, she buckled his pants back, drawing his zipper up slowly. Then she moved to work on his shirt, button by button, her fingers dancing across his warm skin and taut abdomen. She left three buttons undone, on purpose, turning a smile up to Draco to find him watching her intently, his eyes soft but unreadable. 

They met half way for a gentle kiss, one of finality before they separated for the night. 

They finished dressing, slipping into their shoes and stumbling back through the broom closet and out into the corridor. Draco reached out a hand and grabbed Hermione’s wrist, pulling her back into his chest. She giggled, leaning up to kiss him again. 

“Glad we got over our argument?” smirked Draco, pushing her into the closet door to close it, blocking her in with his hands on each side of her head. 

“Very,” said Hermione, pulling him closer by his shirt. They shared another brief kiss before Hermione pushed him away lightly. “We’re about to break our own curfew. Better get back to our common rooms before Filch makes his way back over here.”

“But that means you have to leave,” pouted Draco, grabbing both of her hands and trying to pull her in for another kiss. Hermione let him, sighing into the kiss. 

“You’re something completely unexpected, Draco Malfoy.” 

Hermione stood on her toes, planting a light kiss on Draco’s cheek, before turning away and down the corridor without another word. Draco watched her until her curls bounced around the corner.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooo it's been forever and I feel terrible. I was going to update during my winter break since I didn't get to at all during the semester, but then family came to visit and then I was working and then I moved! 
> 
> Well I'm back at school but finally finding some time to write. 
> 
> But I finally got a chapter up, yay! Hopefully you enjoyed this chapter and can see the relationship forming. Whether it is growing stronger or weaker or maybe just plain toxic, I will leave up to you :) I enjoyed writing this chapter and getting a little bit into Hermione's head, her thoughts and concerns. And of course, what is a chapter without a little Dramione bickering. 
> 
> Some stuff is in the works already so more to come soon x


	4. Astronomy Tower

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco and Hermione plan to meet in the Astronomy Tower

Two months passed and Hermione and Draco continued their affair quietly and secretively. The weather was warming as April approached, allowing the unlikely duo to enjoy their nightly getaways outdoors. They would meet regularly at the Quidditch grounds, the Astronomy tower, and in the greenhouses. They would trade patrol duties with their fellow prefects often to be able to discreetly meet at night without having to make excuses for sneaking out at late hours. They would meet in classrooms, their favorite seventh floor broom closet, and sometimes (when they were feeling more daring) fuck right in the open hallways. 

Hermione had grown comfortable with their routine. They were cautious and, for the most part, kept their meetings strictly about sex. It was only in the last month that Hermione began realizing they would not redress and leave directly after a coupling, but would stay and talk. It would be about small things like favorite books and classes, which grew into debates about potion theories and methods for analyzing and deciphering ancient runes. Hermione enjoyed her time with Draco Malfoy, she was discovering. He was intelligent and witty, albeit still as arrogant as ever. She appreciated that someone else in this school could hold a conversation with her, could match her brains and compete with her good-naturedly. At first, Hermione was surprised when Draco said he, for the most part, got the same marks as she did, and was only a few points behind her in total. He had laughed at her reaction, asking if she thought he had other students doing in his homework for him. Hermione had shrugged and admitted the thought had crossed her mind before. From then on, their talks ventured to academics, and even Draco seemed to enjoy having someone to talk to about the subject. Hermione couldn’t blame him with friends like Parkinson, Crabbe, and Goyle.

The issue was, Hermione was beginning to feel things for Draco that she had not felt about him before. For some time, she had pushed away all thoughts and memories of him being kind to her as anything else other than him just being genuine and trying to keep things on a lighter note since they were sleeping together on a regular basis. Then, she started seeing him as a friend, concerned when she could tell he was having a bad day, worried when he seemed almost sickly at times. But then he seemed to be back to his normal self in her presence, kissing her sweetly when they would lay on some conjured pillows in Greenhouse 6, naked and debating about Divination. 

Hermione was beginning to stop pushing away the good things about Draco, but rather choosing to remember them. Her mind would trail to him often, especially in Defense Against the Dark Arts, dreaming of his lips on her cheek, on her lips, on her neck. If they went three days without meeting up, she would find herself missing him. It was about two weeks ago that she realized she wasn’t just missing the sex, but him. She would miss his hands holding her and his smile. She would miss the way his eyes would light up when she ranted about a certain subject or when she would grow angry with him for disagreeing with her theories or homework answers. 

She knew how foolish it was, to feel for him given their positions. He was a Death Eater, and she had not told anyone, nor did she plan to. They were on opposite sides of a war, on opposite sides of society. He was a pureblood and she was a mudblood. She knew they weren’t being realistic. For Draco, it was just about the sex, but Hermione was fearful that it had become more to her. 

It was to the point that she craved more from each time they met up with each other. Hermione wanted to know more about Draco. She wanted to steer the conversation away from academics and talk about what he wanted to do in the future and where he wanted to travel, even ask about his favorite memories as a child. But all of that seemed too unreal, too dangerous to speak about. The only thing in their future seemed to be a war, and a war where they would be fighting against each other, no less. It was just plain ridiculous to discuss their childhoods. They were so very different, she and Draco. 

Maybe what they were doing was simply foolish dreaming or pretending, trying to keep away the reality of what was coming. 

Hermione reflected on all of this as she sat in Slughorn’s potions class. She had to admit that she was not paying attention, for once, and she could also admit that she did that quite often now. Draco Malfoy always seemed to weasel his way into her thoughts. 

Of course, though, she knew what Slughorn was talking about since she had read today’s required chapters weeks ago. 

“So, then! Now that we’ve got a little background, we will use the last hour or so to dabble in a little advanced potioneering,” said Slughorn, rubbing his hands together excitedly. 

Ron groaned from next to Hermione, grumbling about how the potions they made were difficult already. Harry pulled his cheat book from the anonymous Half-Blood Prince out of his bag and set it in front of him. Hermione rolled her eyes. 

“It was difficult for me to choose only two potions for us to brew the rest of term, but I thought we could use a little experience, seeing as next year will be advanced potions only! Today is the start of a new lunar phase, the perfect time to begin brewing…Veritaserum.”

The class hummed in excitement and began pulling out their cauldrons from the shelves below their desks. 

“Ho ho!” boomed Slughorn with a grin. “Eager are we? Swell! Unfortunately, the ingredients needed to brew and mature Veritaserum are rare and come few in supply. A meager old potions teacher like myself was only able to acquire a small lot, so we will need to partner up in pairs for the remainder of the month.”

The class buzzed again as friends tried to partner up before they could be taken by anyone else. 

“Seeing as Harry has that book, ‘Mione, I think its only fair I get you as a partner,” said Ron, throwing his arm around her and grinning. 

“Whatever, Ronald.” 

Hermione shrugged his arm off quickly. She could feel his eyes on her. 

“Hold on a moment! Hold on!” said Slughorn, waving his hands about to stop students from leaving their chairs. “We should not use the same old partners and friends now, should we? I’ll partner you up myself in the hopes that we can prompt some House unity, eh? Hmm, lets see…”

Ron and Harry huffed as they were partnered with Ernie Macmillan and Tracey Davies. Hermione thought they were perfectly good matches, although she supposed it was getting quite annoying, being partnered up with classmates from different Houses so often. It seemed as the war grew closer, the Hogwarts professors tried to unite the students more often. 

“And I suppose that means, er, well…that leaves Miss Granger and Mr. Malfoy.”

Hermione’s heart skipped a beat. She could hardly focus with him sitting at the back of the classroom. How was she supposed to focus working with him for a month? 

She stood so Ernie Macmillan could take his seat next to Ron, whose face was pinched and was looking at her like if he did so hard enough, she wouldn’t be able to leave from her place next to him and join Malfoy. Harry did not seem too pleased either. 

She gathered her things and turned to the back of the classroom. Draco’s face was clear of any emotions, only looking at her coolly, his lips upturned slightly in a scowl. Hermione glared back at him for show. She set her things down on the table and took her seat next to him, turning on her stool to face the front of the class as Slughorn began giving directions. 

“We will stick with these partners for the rest of the semester, if all goes well,” said Slughorn, throwing a glance at Hermione and Draco. 

They both stifled a smile. 

“You’ll be using my own cauldrons, as they are larger and more accommodating. And the ingredients…” Slughorn waved his wand and they materialized on each table. “You’ll find the directions on page two hundred and five. Feel free to ask questions, but I will not give much direction. Well then, let’s see how you all do. Begin!”

Hermione turned to face Draco. He shot her a small smirk. 

“This should be fun,” he said. 

“Behave yourself, Malfoy, won’t you?” said Hermione, trying to contain her own smile. She could feel Harry and Ron watching them. 

“I will if you will,” he hummed. 

Hermione shook her head at him. “Go grab the cauldron? I’ll start reading over the directions.”

“As you wish.”

Draco stood up tall and brushed past her, closer than necessary. She felt the tips of his fingers brush her waist as he passed. Hermione watched him walk away, shaking her head slightly, still trying to contain a smile. He looked good today, she thought. His trousers were pressed, as always, just like his dress shirt. He had it buttoned up to his neck, although Hermione was beginning to realize she liked a few buttons undone. His tie was tucked perfectly under his vest. He must have left his robes in his dormitory today. His hair was slicked back, as usual, but some pieces were falling across his forehead. Hermione had told him once that she liked that. 

When he came back with the cauldron, a smirk was fully marking his features. Hermione flushed, realizing she had not even opened her book, so caught up as she was in staring at him. 

“Enjoying the view?” he asked, almost a whisper in her ear as he brushed past her again. 

“Stop smirking! Someone might notice,” said Hermione sternly. 

“I can’t help it,” said Draco in a quiet tone. He set the cauldron between them on its proper stand. “I haven’t seen you in two days.”

“Still! You hate me, remember?” Hermione whispered while skimming over the directions. 

“I think we both know that’s no longer true.”

Hermione ignored him, instead directing him to light a fire beneath the cauldron. 

“Ten lacewing flies, crushed and added pinch by pinch,” said Hermione while Draco began stirring the boiling water in the cauldron. 

They sat in silence while they worked, as they normally would have, to curve any suspicion away from them. It was hard though; Hermione did not like being this close to him and having to pretend like she hated him. She snuck a glance at him when she added the next pinch, causing their potion to smoke slightly. Draco watched it, concentrated, stirring clockwise like the textbook directed. 

“When it turns a milky white, stir ten more times. Then I need to add the,” Hermione glanced back to the textbook, “bat’s blood.”

Hermione and Draco both glanced at each other and crinkled their noses. 

“Didn’t think that was in Veritaserum,” said Draco. 

“Neither did I.”

Draco raised his brow when the mixture in their cauldron turned milky white and he began counting each stir until he reached ten. 

He turned to her, “Bat’s blood?”

Hermione measured the correct amount of blood in a syringe and brought it over to the cauldron. 

“Woah! One drop at a time and then five stirs, it says,” said Draco, pointing at the directions. 

“I wasn’t going to drop it all in at once!” retorted Hermione in defense. 

“Looked like you were,” Draco protested. 

Hermione rolled her eyes and added a drop. Nothing happened. 

“It’s supposed to start gradually turning purple,” observed Draco. Hermione huffed and glanced across the room to see Harry adding two drops at a time from his own syringe and then stirring five times. Tracey Davies had Harry’s textbook side-by-side with hers, comparing them with a confused look on her face. 

“Add two drops at a time, then stir five clockwise,” said Hermione, begrudgingly knowing that Harry’s potion probably looked perfect, all thanks to some phony called the Half-Blood Prince.

“Two? No, Granger, the directions specifically say to add one drop, then stir.”

Hermione glanced up to see him watching her. “Trust me, Malfoy.” 

Draco’s brows pinched together and he quickly looked away from her, his expression unreadable. Hermione quickly added the second drop before the first could dissolve without stirring. Draco counted his stirs to five and, sure enough, the mixture turned an extremely light purple. 

“How did you know that?” asked Draco. 

Hermione smirked, trying to keep from laughing. “It’s a long story,” she said, adding two more drops of bat’s blood. Draco stirred their potion and it turned a lavender color. 

Twenty minutes later, and Hermione was growing quite frustrated with Veritaserum. It was quite advanced, and for the last fifteen minutes, both Draco and Hermione had been switching back and forth stirring in a very precise and particular motion. Slughorn came by and complimented them though, saying it looked perfect for the stage it was in. 

“Oho, Harry! You may have some competition in Mr. Malfoy and Miss Granger, here!” he had boomed across the classroom. 

Harry had looked somewhat alarmed to see both Draco and Hermione smirking back at him. Draco’s pride most likely related to years of animosity between the two boys, along with the fact that he was partnered with Hermione. Hermione, though, was just glad to see Harry and his stupid book fall slightly from Slughorn’s good graces. Of course, she would never tell him she had picked up tips on the bat’s blood from watching him work.

“Ten minutes left class! You should be getting ready to add your Bitteroot and nearing the end of stage one,” said Slughorn. 

Draco was in the middle of adding the Bitteroot he had previously weighed while Hermione stirred. He had also had to cut the root in precise and equal lengths. 

“Remember to document what your potion looks like now and where you’ve left off,” said Slughorn. “We’ll return to them on Wednesday. In the meantime, put your cauldrons on the top shelf. I’ll tend to them and stir each tomorrow.”

Hermione was furiously documenting the visual of their potion while Draco cleaned up their station. 

“Put out the fire and take the cauldron to the shelf, won’t you?” she said, glancing up at Draco. She could see the muscles in his arm flexing as wiped down their station with a rag. He paused to meet her gaze, smirking when he caught her staring. 

“Bossy, aren’t you?” he said, looking away from her and pulling out his wand. Hermione raised her brow when he nonverbally put out the flame beneath their cauldron. Their potion stopped simmering and became still. “It’s kind of hot.”

Hermione’s eyes shot up to him but he successfully ignored her, twirling his wand between his long fingers. 

“Wingardium Leviosa.” Draco lifted his wand and the cauldron hovered in the air. He brushed past her again, this time purposefully pressing his crotch into her bum. Hermione’s eyes widened when she felt what was unmistakably his cock, slightly hard and as desperate for her as she was quickly becoming for him. 

But then he was moving away from her again, their cauldron hovering next to him as he crossed the room to take it to the proper shelf. Hermione could feel the heat in her cheeks. Her reaction to him was immediate: she was flushed and throbbing for him, practically desperate. It really had been two days too many. 

Draco returned, not brushing against her this time, but she could sense he was close. His fingers trailed down her ribs and rested on the side of her hips as he passed her, causing goosebumps to rise on her skin. She tried to control her thoughts, focusing on cleaning up their ingredients. She reached to grab the jar of lacewing flies and Draco brushed her hand with his as he collected the remainder of the Bitteroot. Just that small touch had her breath hitching. She heard Draco snort lightly; he knew exactly what he was doing to her. 

“Astronomy Tower tonight. Normal time,” he said under his breath, screwing tops back on open jars. 

“And if I’m busy?” said Hermione with an air of nonchalance. 

“You’re not.” 

Hermione rolled her eyes at the entitlement in Draco’s voice. He was right though, of course.

Hermione finished cleaning up their table while Draco opted for packing up his bag slowly, watching her move and stretch to grab things. Her skirt would ride up to expose her thighs and her soft skin would stretch across her calves. Hermione felt him looking. She knew what she was doing to him, too, just as purposefully as he was teasing her. She could play, too. 

She faced away from him and bent over to store the cauldron stand back under the table, smirking when Draco groaned. She knew her bum wasn’t exactly exposed with the length of her modest school skirt, but it was damn near close. Hermione bent back over to retrieve her bag. Draco growled. 

As she was storing her own cauldron and scales back in her school bag, Draco leaned into her. 

“Give me your knickers.” 

Hermione’s breath caught in her throat and her packing ceased. “Excuse me?”

“Give me your knickers,” said Draco, his voice dangerously low and demanding. This was not unusual for them now. Draco tended to be more dominant and demanding in bed now. It was something they had both grown to realize they enjoyed. 

“We’re in class, Malfoy,” Hermione protested through gritted teeth, hoping that the use of his first name would convince him to get a grip. 

Suddenly, Draco was shoving her textbook off the back end of their table. 

“Go pick it up, and when you do, take off your knickers.” 

Hermione was glad no one had ended up sitting across from her and Draco. Theodore Nott and Tracey Davies, who shared the Slytherin table with Draco, had been partnered up with students on the other end of the room. She was also grateful that no one could see past the two tall tables pushed together, with shelves for the base instead of an open space and four legs. She wasn’t pleased that Draco had pushed her book off the table though, because it caused almost everyone to turn and look at them. Hermione somehow found it all the more exciting as she crouched down, reaching beneath her skirt to pull down her underwear. She stepped out of them, grabbed her book, and shot Draco a glare as she stood up. She returned to her seat, dropping her blue lace knickers in the open palm he was hiding behind his back. 

She shoved her textbook in her bag as Slughorn dismissed the class. 

“These are cute,” said Draco, sending her a wink as he deposited her underwear in the pocket of his trousers. “A little wet, though, no?”

Hermione glared at him. Draco smirked and stood, pushing in his chair and grabbing his bag. He swung it over his shoulder.

“Don’t act like you didn’t enjoy that,” said Draco knowingly. “I’ll see you tonight.” 

Hermione was blushing, pretending not to be effected when his hand lightly squeezed her waist as he walked past her. She watched him leave the room, one hand holding his bag on his shoulder and the other in his pocket. 

Hermione swallowed and made her way over to Ron and Harry, who were watching her closely from their own table. They bid Professor Slughorn goodbye and exited the classroom, joining the hoard of students in the hallway on their way to dinner. 

“Malfoy sure looked pleased with himself,” noted Ron, directing the statement at Hermione. She blushed even more at the oblivious way in which he said it. If he only knew. 

“When isn’t he?” she said. She watched a head of white blond hair disappear further down the hall and around the corner. 

“You seemed to brew a potion without killing each other at least,” said Harry, shooting Hermione a calculating look that she did not see. She didn’t reply, hoping they would drop the subject of Draco Malfoy.

>

Eleven o’clock couldn’t have come any sooner. The night seemed to drag. It was a miracle that Hermione had accomplished any work. When her roommates were getting ready for bed, Hermione left her dormitory and crept down to the common room. Harry and Ron were still sitting by the fire, stressing over an essay for Transfiguration. 

“Where are you off to?” Ron asked, looking up when she passed them. 

“Prefects bathroom. I finished my homework for the week so – “

“Where are your clothes then?” inquired Harry. 

Hermione rolled her eyes to herself. “Don’t be silly, Harry. I’ve shrunk them in my pocket, as usual.”

She quickly bid the boys goodnight, waving to Ginny who was playing a game of chess with Dean Thomas in the corner. 

Hermione descended the stairs of Gryffindor tower, excited to see Draco. 

He was waiting for her at the top of the Astronomy tower, like he always did. Somehow, he always got there first. He was leaning against the railing, looking out at the Great Lake. It was chilly tonight, but it seemed like Draco was welcoming the cold air. His shirt sleeves were rolled up and he still didn’t have his school robes on. He still hadn’t noticed her presence, so Hermione just stood there, watching him. He really was beautiful. The moon was a bright white tonight, making it seem like his hair was even lighter than it already was. She couldn’t see his eyes, but she knew they were a beautiful, pale grey. His skin was pale too, just like the rest of him; it made him look almost ethereal in the moonlight. He was beautiful; he was her beautiful secret. 

Hermione’s heart fluttered when he turned his head to the side, gazing across the Hogwarts grounds. She could see his face this way; his strong jawline and the curve of his lips. She frowned, really noticing the dark circles under his eyes in the pale moonlight. Was he not sleeping? Maybe she could ask him. 

Draco sighed, breathing in and out slowly, and folded his hands together over the rail. His tongue darted out to wet his lips, and he must have begun grinding his teeth together (a habit that Hermione had noticed lately) because his jaw clenched and unclenched, making his features seem firm and then soft once more. He bowed his head, his shoulders hunching. The moonlight bounced off of his hair, turning it almost silver. He was kind of like the moon, Hermione observed. Pale and bright and silver. She was entranced. 

“You’re kind of beautiful, you know,” blurted Hermione. Draco just smirked, not seemingly surprised that she had been watching him, as if he had known she was there. Hermione blushed, walking over to him slowly. She leaned against the rail beside him, taking in the cool night air and the misty landscape. 

“No one has ever called me beautiful before,” Draco hummed, watching her now as she gazed out across the Great Lake. 

“Well…it just kind of came out,” admitted Hermione sheepishly. 

“You’re not too bad yourself, Granger,” said Draco. Hermione didn’t expect anything more from him. It was just sex, after all. She seemed to be reminding herself of that a lot lately. 

“It’s beautiful here at night,” acknowledged Hermione, trying to change the subject. 

“Yeah, it is,” said Draco, still watching her. He turned away when Hermione caught his eye. “I come here a lot.”

“Besides us meeting here?” 

“Yeah. It’s kind of peaceful. I like that.”

Hermione watched him closely, looking for a flicker of emotion, but saw nothing. She sighed. “It’s kind of an escape, I guess. Like Hogwarts, but without everyone. It’s quiet.”

Draco stayed silent, his brow pinched. “I wonder if it’ll be like that one day,” Hermione continued carefully, “…just silent.” 

“You mean when we’re dead?” Draco mused, turning to look at her again. 

“Maybe.” 

Draco scoffed and Hermione smiled. Maybe she was being silly, talking about these things with Draco Malfoy. But what if one day Hogwarts was silent? What if the war destroyed all life inside the castle? Hermione thought maybe Draco knew the meaning behind her words. 

“Depressing tonight, aren’t you?”

Hermione’s lips quirked up more. “Maybe,” she said again. 

“Well don’t be because I have something planned I think you’ll like,” said Draco. He pushed off the railing and came to stand behind Hermione. Her breathing sped up as it usually did so close to him. 

“Er...and what do you have planned?” 

Draco pressed his front into Hermione’s back, wrapping his arms around her waist. “I can’t tell you,” he whispered in her ear.

“Why would you bring it up if you can’t tell me!” huffed Hermione. 

Draco chuckled and rest his chin on her shoulder, bending down to her height. 

“Because it’s a surprise.”

Hermione frowned. “You can’t even give me a hint?”

“Just meet me at 8 o’clock by the stairs on the seventh floor on Saturday,” Draco insisted, pressing a light kiss to the side of her neck. 

“You mean I have to wait until Saturday?” Hermione pouted, but tilted her neck sideways to give Draco more room. She leaned into his touch, sighing contentedly at the feel of his lips and being so close to him.

“It’s only a few days, Granger. Surely you can handle it.” His kisses moved up her neck until he was nibbling on her ear, something Hermione was very fond of. As usual, goosebumps rose on her skin, and she leaned into his touch. 

It was rare that he would hold her like this, his arms wrapped around her and pressed closely together. She relished the feel of it, even though every time he did so it was for the purpose of trying to start something, like he was now. Still, the ghost of his forearms wrapped around her stomach, holding her tightly, his fingers gripping at her waist, would haunt her for days. 

Hermione leaned her head back against Draco’s shoulder, tilting to face him, parting her lips to welcome his. Draco craned his neck and leaned down to meet her. It was almost intimate, their position, and Hermione’s heart was racing. She hated how he could make her feel that way.

Their cheeks flushed as the kiss began to heat up, Hermione’s tongue dipping into his mouth to taste and explore. Hermione turned in his arms, her arms snaking around his neck and into his hair. Draco stepped into her, holding her tightly, and pressed her back against the rail as his tongue delved into her mouth. 

Hermione was beyond caught up in the moment. Her heart was racing, more than it ever had before. Maybe it was the kiss, so full of passion as they held each other close under the stars. Hermione’s fingers ventured further into his hair, tugging lightly on the light blond strands. To her surprise, Draco’s hands ventured from her waist and up to cup her face, his fingers weaving into the hair at the nape of her neck and his palms cradling her jaw. Hermione froze slightly, her stomach flipping. She gasped into the kiss when his thumbs stroked delicately along her cheeks.

Draco only began to kiss her harder, spinning them around and walking them backwards off the balcony. 

“I brought extra pillows and blankets tonight,” Draco said, briefly pulling away from their intense kissing. 

“What a treat,” beamed Hermione, her eyes brightly assessing him as he pulled a shrunken handful of bedding out of his pocket. 

He tossed them into their favored corner of the tower and pulled out his wand, muttering an ‘Engorgio’ that turned the shrunken items back to their normal size. Draco piled the blankets on top of each other, whispering a cushioning charm as he went before tossing the pillows down. Hermione stood back, watching him with a smile. 

"What?" he smiled back at her, holding a hand out towards her and motioning her over. Hermione said nothing but took his outstretched hand and let him pull her over to their makeshift cot. She kicked off her boots before stepping onto the cushioned blankets. 

Draco did the same, pulling her into his chest to meet her lips once again. Hermione blushed when she sighed into the kiss, her hands resting on his chest while Draco's weaved up into her hair. 

Their kisses heated back up quickly, lips working furiously together and tongues exploring. Hermione sucked Draco's bottom lips between her teeth and tugged, nipping lightly. Draco growled, kissing her harder when Hermione released his plump lip from the confines of her teeth. 

Hands began roaming, stroking sensually, and tugging on hair and clothes. Hermione’s robe was pushed off of her shoulders and she tossed it aside, bringing her fingers to work at the buttons of Draco’s shirt. She eagerly pulled the lapels of his shirt apart and ran her hands down his bare stomach, memorizing the feel of him. The sparse hairs on his chest, lightly defined pectorals and strong muscles leading down his torso. Hermione’s thumb dipped into the deep V-line that disappeared beneath his trousers, brushing her fingers lightly across his skin until she teasingly skimmed them across the waistband of his pants. She smirked into the kiss when Draco shivered, something she had recently caught onto.

“Tease,” Draco mumbled against her lips, trailing kisses down her chin and to her jaw. 

Hermione giggled and tugged him closer by his belt loops, brushing his arousal against her stomach. She dipped her head back, giving Draco access to move his kisses to her neck. Her eyes fluttered when he nipped below her ear, her favorite spot to be marked. It had just healed from when he left one a week ago. She had been concealing it with glamour charms. She had to do it often, in fact. Draco was quite fond of marking her neck. 

Draco groaned when Hermione stroked him over his pants, stepping away from her and suddenly pulling the hem of her sweater off of her head. It caused him to smile, her hair looking even more wild than before. She looked so endearing like this, hair wild and cheeks flushed, lips plump from his kisses and goosebumps littering her flesh as she stood in just her skirt and bra. She shivered when a light breeze blew through the Astronomy tower. Draco cast a silent warming charm, his eyes on her nipples which were hard through her bra. And what a flimsy little scrap of material it was. He reached behind her back and unclipped it, revealing her small and perky breasts. Hermione smiled up at him, shy under his intense gaze. 

"Perfect," Draco whispered, stepping into her to join their lips again. 

Hermione felt an unexpected sense of confidence at his compliment, and took charge of their actions for a change. Her fingers worked at undoing his belt while she traced a line of kisses from his lips and across his jaw. Within seconds she had Draco moaning, sucking and nibbling on the one spot where his neck met his jaw. It always drove him crazy. When his pants were unbuttoned, she shoved them down his thighs, moving her kisses down his neck and to his chest. 

She got on her knees, much to Draco's excitement, whose eyes were clouded with lust as she pulled his trousers and underwear down to his ankles. 

Hermione did not do this often, but she knew Draco quite liked it when she did. She took his hard length in her hand, squeezing and giving him an experimental pump that had him groaning and putting his hand against the wall for support. 

She smirked up at him, reveling in the sultry look he was giving her, and kept her eyes locked on his as she licked the dribble of seed from the tip of his cock. Draco smirked at her action and threw his head back when she took him completely into the oasis of her mouth. His Dark Mark flashed in Hermione’s peripheral when he brought his hand up to tangle in her hair, gently aiding in moving her as she bobbed up and down. 

Hermione brought a hand up to pump the part of him that she could not reach. It was slick with her saliva as she flicked her wrist, bringing Draco to tighten his grip in her hair and groan again. 

“Merlin, Granger. You’re getting good at this,” said Draco, throwing his head back when she hollowed out her cheeks and sucked. 

Hermione giggled around him, sucking harder and pumping faster as she took him deep into her throat before pulling off of him with a ‘pop’. She took a gasp of air before Draco was guiding her back to his cock, a firm hand on her head. 

Hermione was enjoying the eager, more dominant side of Draco as she took him back in her mouth. She let him guide her to take him down her throat again, letting him hold her head down for a few seconds as her throat convulsed around him. She came back up for air, gasping and leaving a trail of spit behind. She leaned back down to lick up the cum leaking from his swollen tip. 

Draco practically growled while watching her, his lips parted and his brow pinched in pleasure. 

"If you do that again I'm going to cum down your throat," he rasped, running his fingers through Hermione's curls. 

"Well we can't have that, can we?" giggled Hermione. Draco shook his head and joined her on their makeshift bed, kicking off his trousers to leave him fully naked. He pushed her down into the pillows, grabbing her ankles and stretching out her legs beneath them before he climbed on top of her. 

"No, I don't think we can," smirked Draco before leaning down for a kiss. Hermione wrapped her arms around his neck to bring him closer, pulling his flush against her. 

Draco did not give her lips attention for long, however, moving his attentions down her neck and to her chest. Hermione sighed when his lips wrapped around one taut nipple, his fingers tweaking at her other. He bit gently and pulled with his teeth, coaxing a moan out of Hermione who brought a hand onto the back on his neck to keep him there. He teased her, flicking it in quick licks before switching to give the same attention to her other breast. 

He left a trail of wet kisses down her stomach until he was fiddling with the zipper of her skirt, pulling it down and off when she lifted up her bum to allow it. Hermione watched him under heavy lids as he settled himself between her thighs, stroking his hands up and down her calves and kissing up her thighs until he was dangerously close to her damp knickers. 

His soft lips traced over the inside of her thighs, his breath fanning across the outside of her underwear. It caused her heart to race and she sat up on her elbows so she could watch his every move. When he kissed her over her knickers, Hermione threw her head back in a moan.

"Stop teasing, Malfoy," she threatened. Draco only did it again, this time pulling the waistband of the purple lace between his teeth and tugging playfully. 

Hermione got the idea and lifted her bum again so Draco could urgently pull her knickers down. He flung the intrusive material away and moved to hover over her, his elbows on either side of her head. 

“Comfortable?” he asked, eyeing her curls that were spread out among the pillows. Hermione only smiled and nodded in return, running her hands across his chest and up into his hair. “I want to try something,” said Draco. 

“Ok,” Hermione said skeptically but was reassured when the corners of Draco’s mouth lifted up in a small grin. He grabbed one of the pillows and instructed her to lift up before sliding it under her lower back. 

“Do you trust me?” Draco watched her closely in the aftermath of his question. He sat up and grabbed both of Hermione’s ankles, pulling her legs together and pushing her knees towards her chest. 

Realization dawned on Hermione’s features and she gave him an eager nod. “I trust you.” The statement came out small and quiet, but she meant it. 

Draco swallowed, his eyes still on hers as he brought each of her creamy smooth legs to rest on his shoulders. His cock was still hard and throbbing as he took his arousal in his hand and guided it to her wet slit. Hermione cried out when he pushed inside of her, immediately taking to a fast pace that had her reeling. Draco was grunting at the friction from the new position they were trying, but Hermione was in heaven.

Each time he drove into her, he hit that certain spot that had Hermione crying out his name and moaning helplessly. She thought this might be her new favorite position. Draco grabbed her waist and pulled her even closer so her bum was slapping against his thighs. He was even deeper now and Hermione threw her head back into the pillow, arching her back and biting her lip to stop from screaming out the name of the Slytherin above her, along with many profanities. 

“Look at me,” demanded Draco from above her. Hermione picked up her head and opened her eyes, meeting Draco’s heated gaze. 

“Fuck,” groaned Draco, resting his forehead on hers. He pumped even faster and the coil inside of Hermione tightened quickly, begging for release. 

Hermione cried out, letting go and taking Draco’s lips in hers to smother her moans. Draco paused as her pussy convulsed around him and it took every bit of his willpower not to cum. He wasn’t going to until he had her shaking around him again. He kissed her harder, waiting for her high to wear off. 

When Hermione began grinding on his cock, Draco took the hint and began to move again. He sat up fully on his knees and held her thighs in a bruising grip as he drove forward. He was so close; too close. 

“Gods,” cried Hermione, forcing her eyes to stay open so she could watch him. 

“Are you going to cum again for me, Granger?” said Draco, his voice raspy from the quick pace in which he was moving. 

She was quickly approaching release again at a rapid pace and she nodded her response. She knew her words couldn’t possibly be coherent at this point. A coil in her stomach was tightening again and she knew she could reach another orgasm any minute. It did not help when Draco reached his thumb down to stroke her clit in fast circles. Her release built faster until she was teetering on the edge once more, less than three minutes after the last. 

“Can’t,” she gasped and Draco pumped faster, teetering on the edge as well. “Going to – I can’t,” moaned Hermione as she gave into the pleasure once more, coming hard. 

Draco gave in as well, allowing Hermione’s reactions to push him over the edge. Their moans filled the Astronomy tower until all fell quiet, leaving the Slytherin and Gryffindor to just stare at each other in amazement. 

“Is it just me or was that the best sex we’ve had yet?” asked Draco, taking her trembling legs from his shoulders to rest on the blankets. Hermione gasped quietly when he pulled out of her. She looked up at him to catch his smirk. 

“I think that’s fair to say,” grinned Hermione. 

Draco was looking quite pleased with himself and Hermione laughed at him. “You’ve never made me orgasm twice before,” she said, standing up briefly so she could pull one of the blankets over her. 

“Correction,” Draco scoffed, climbing under the blanket with her, “I’ve never made you orgasm a second time so very soon after the first.” 

Hermione agreed with him and his smirk returned. He settled into the pillows and folded his arms behind his head. Hermione propped herself up on her elbow, gazing down at him. She wished to cuddle into his side, but it wasn’t something they ever did. In fact, the last time he had really been intimate like that was when they had met on the Quidditch field, when Draco tried to convince her that they should keep sleeping together in secret. She had wondered before if he had treated her so carefully because he was trying to get her to sleep with him. In the two months since, they had never done anything of the sort. Still, she thought of that night often, wondering how it would feel to have his arms around her again. 

Her stomach fluttered with nerves as she boldly moved into his side and rested her head on his shoulder. She dared not to look at him, but she could feel his eyes on the top of her head. She busied herself with counting the breathes he was taking, watching the movement of his chest. 

Hermione’s heart stuttered when he brought his arm around her and rested his hand on her waist. After a few more silent moments, she glanced up at him nervously. He was watching her, his face void of emotion but his brows pinched in confusion. 

Hermione looked away uncomfortably, her stomach dropping. Had she just ruined the moment?

“I should go soon,” said Draco. His voice wasn’t cold, but it wasn’t warm either. It only confirmed her thoughts. 

“I’m sorry,” she blurted. “I shouldn’t have done that.” Hermione sat up and awkwardly pulled the blanket up to cover her chest, which was beginning to turn as pink as her cheeks. 

Draco continued to watch her silently, his face not giving away any clues. 

“I like what we have going on,” Hermione lied, feeling angry with herself as she said so. Deep down she knew she wished their relationship was more than sex. “I wouldn’t want to ruin that. I think of you as a friend, too. I don’t want to ruin that either.”

She was caught off guard when Draco started laughing. It was different from his usual chuckle or condescending snort and she didn’t get to hear it often. 

“All I said was that I have to go soon, not get off of me,” said Draco, smiling at her embarrassment. 

Hermione just stared at him. “Well…you didn’t seem like you –“

“Hermione.” It sounded like a warning and Draco rolled his eyes. Hermione looked at him bewildered at the use of her first name. 

“What?” she asked, defensively. 

“I’m not against holding you after sex,” said Draco, patting his open shoulder. “Come here, it’s nice.”

Hermione was surprised at his response since he had looked so cold at first, but she wished more than anything to cuddle up next to him. She carefully rested her head back on his shoulder and curled her leg around his. Draco’s arm came back around her and pulled her close to his side. Hermione tried to hide her smile as she pulled the warm blanket over them. 

“See? I hold you this close when we’re fucking,” said Draco, raising his brow at her. Hermione almost laughed until he continued and said, “It doesn’t mean anything.” 

Hermione swallowed and looked away, watching the movement of his chest. She felt something creep up and squeeze her heart, her hopes fading as the sudden threat of unwelcome tears pricked at her eyes. She was sure now that she had feelings for Draco Malfoy.

“Yeah, of course,” she said. “Nothing at all.”

But it meant a lot to Hermione. 

She didn’t mean a word of what she said. Draco didn’t think he did either.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was hoping to get this up within a week of chapter 3 but that clearly didn't happen. However, this chapter did end up being much longer than I originally thought. Normally the chapters are around 5,000 and this one was about 8,000! I guess I couldn't stop writing...
> 
> A lot happened in this chapter and of course, I skipped ahead two months from the last. We see somewhat of a friendly relationship has formed but it seems like Hermione might be catching the feels!
> 
> We'll have to see what happens in chapter 5, which may take some time to get up. Fret not, though. I at least have the next chapter in the works and maybe a little something extra coming soon ;)
> 
> Please review and let me know what you thought of this chapter and if you have any ideas about what Draco's surprise may be :)
> 
> Oh, and thank you all for reviewing and showing love on the last chapter! It meant the world. Thank you readers x


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